Memories Lost and Found
by Naushin M
Summary: This story is about Elizabeth's journey from hating Darcy to falling in love with him only to lose her memory after a few days. But unfortunately for Darcy, the time she doesn't remember dates from right after his proposal, she even forgets the letter. When Darcy finds out, he is devastated. Will he try to win her again or will he leave everything to fate? COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is my take on Pride and Prejudice. I know that the amnesia thing has been done before, but it just appealed to me as a good idea for my first fic. It will be a little boring until the actual drama begins, so please bear with me till then. I would love to receive your (positive) reviews.**

**Also all the characters (except a few) mentioned in this story belong to Jane Austen.**

**Chapter 1: Hateful Mr. Darcy and Cruel Miss Bennet**

After the previous evening's astonishing interaction with Mr. Darcy, a still shocked Elizabeth roamed the grounds of Rosing's Park in fear of encountering him but too restless to sit inside. She found it hard to believe that Mr. Darcy, the proud and aloof Mr. Darcy who thought Jane beneath Mr. Bingley, was committed enough to her to ignore all the objections in their case to put forward his own. '_You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you,' _was the phrase that made frantic rounds around her tortured mind. But there were other phrases too, and they weren't the ones to sooth her vanity, indeed they were doing exactly the opposite. '_How could he? _She thought again and again, _how could he insult and degrade my relations to my face? Had he no idea how mortifying his cruel words were? How could he claim ardent love for me and then go on to abuse my relations in the same breath? What was he trying to achieve by proposing to me in such an offensive manner? Can he be so obtuse as to not know that even a woman violently in love with him would be hard pressed to accept his infuriating addresses? It is his pride,' _she huffed angrily, '_his insufferable pride.'_

She walked on in angry yet silent meditation thinking about Jane and Mr. Bingley now, '_Jane, not in love with Mr. Bingley? Ha! What a joke,' _she wrung her poor handkerchief mercilessly. '_And his disdain of Mr. Wickham, abominable,' _she felt like stomping her feet but refrained, with difficulty.

Lost thus in her meditations, she unconsciously walked into the same grove that led to the path that had, on a few occasions in the past, brought her face to face with the very man she was in no humour to interact with just now, or maybe for all of eternity. As she released an exasperated breath and looked up from the muddy path, she saw his tall form taking long and hurried steps towards her. Too astonished and discomposed to take refuge behind a tree, she remained rooted to the ground for a few terrifying moments, and it was too late to do otherwise when she regained some, if not all, of her wits about her.

"I have been walking in the grove for sometime in the hopes of meeting you", he said in his customary haughty accents holding a letter out to her, "Would you do me the honour of reading this?" She had no idea what propelled her to accept the letter, but accept it she did.

He gave her a stiff bow and went away toward the direction of Rosings, leaving a bewildered Elizabeth behind to dwell on the letter and the thoughts it was bound to produce.

**...**

Even though the return trip to London was well under way, Lady Catherine's booming voice and strictures on the salient points of how a gentleman should live his life still grated on Darcy's nerves. Colonel Fitzwilliam on the other hand seemed just as unperturbed as ever, thus making Darcy envious, which he, for the first time in his life, was not reluctant to be because he wanted to keep his mind on subjects other than the cruel slight he had received at the hands of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

"Darcy you look frightful, why the scowl man? There's no Aunt Catherine here, might as well loosen up a bit," Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned mischievously.

"Can you not stay quiet Richard, I have a headache," Darcy scowled a little more and fixed his eyes on the passing scenery.

"A headache? I had no idea Miss Bennet's headache was contagious," The Colonel said with a knowing smirk.

Darcy frowned, '_devil take Fitzwilliam,' _he thought,_ 'he's too clever by half to be in the Army. But I must not, at any cost let him know what happened last night, my pride has been compromised enough for one lifetime. I will conquer this, even if I have to wear a mask for the rest of my dratted life.'_

"What are you on about Richard? Spare me your flights of fancy please, at least till the journey ends." He said tiredly, which was only part act as he really was quite tired, tired of fighting his love for Miss Elizabeth Bennet, of pretending to be uninterested when his whole being was tuned to her every move, of the resentment he was trying to shrug off at her hateful words and of appearing to be in complete control of himself when he was barely hanging by a thread.

"Such indifference Darcy?" Colonel Fitzwilliam arched one eyebrow, "Did you not go to check on Miss Bennet last evening as soon as you discovered that she was indisposed?"

"Are you off your rocker man? Do you really think I would approach an unchaperoned female in the confines of a room purposefully?" Darcy leapt from his relaxed position and eyed the Colonel with as much false indignation as he could muster, and even though he did not know it, his performance was wholly convincing. The Colonel seriously doubted his considerable powers of observation. In Darcy's defense, he really would never have done this normally. Gentleman that he was, he only performed the aforementioned and disparaged act the previous evening because he was sure that after he obtained the lady's acceptance of his hand, it would not be improper any more.

"Err…no, I do not", the Colonel stammered.

"What on Earth made you think I went to the parsonage Richard?" Darcy's performance was by no means over, but he knew that he must not overdo the indignation and therefore slipped back into his usual cool reserve after that one convincing outburst. "You really do say the most extraordinary things sometimes," he said with haughtier.

The poor Colonel blinked at his stoic cousin and cursed himself for ever thinking Darcy interested in Miss Bennet. But was not ready to concede that easily, indeed his Army training forbade it.

"But Darcy, if you are not interested in Miss Bennet, why did you stare at her all the time. Honestly man, that is the only thing that made me think that you were attracted to her, because otherwise you two often seemed at odds with each other." '_There,' _Colonel Fitzwilliam thought, '_let us see how he gets out of this one.'_

Darcy realized that the Colonel was no Bingley, pulling wool over his eyes would indeed be not that easy. So he decided that an utter denial of any attraction would be stupid, therefore he changed his tactics. "Yes, I was attracted to her." He conceded. "She was a welcome change from all the simpering women who act as if even the ground I walk on is sacred," here he smiled lightly, just to give the whole act a touch of nonchalance. "But that does not mean that I would visit her when she is alone." '_There,' _Darcy thought, '_let us see what you make of this.'_

"Oh well, forgive me Darce for such frivolous thinking," Colonel Fitzwilliam winked at him, but then got serious, "but if you did not go to the parsonage, where were you? And why were you in such a black mood when you came back?"

For this, our clever hero had a ready reply. "Well Richard, I was going to discuss this first with your father but I guess you must have guessed some of it even though you do not take any interest in Rosing's goings on."

"What do you mean old man, is there something wrong with the estate?" The Colonel appeared seriously discomposed now.

"Yes there is, the estate is going into loss and Aunt Catherine refuses to take my advice on anything, therefore I went to meet her steward last evening to put some sense into the odious man for the last time, but to no avail, and therefore the black mood," again, in Darcy's defense, he only changed the time of the meeting from afternoon to evening.

They exchanged details and views on the various problems at Rosings for a while, but the Colonel sensing Darcy's weariness decided to take a nap for the rest of the journey, thoughts of Darcy's interest in Miss Bennet as far as thoughts of old and ugly men from his mind.

Darcy on the other hand successfully kept his mind blank for the rest of the journey. He was saving all the unsavory thoughts for the privacy of his chambers, where he planned to dwell on every arched eyebrow, every censuring look, every hurtful expression and every wounding word.

**Next Chapter : A letter to comprehend and a love to conquer**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: A letter to comprehend and a love to conquer**

Elizabeth plopped down on the nearby log, and stared at the ground as if in a daze. _This cannot be true, _were her first thoughts, _but why would he lie about his own sister? _These were the second thoughts. _The cad, _and these were the final thoughts on the subject of Wickham, and rest assured that this time 'the cad' was not Mr. Darcy, it certainly was Mr. Wickham.

Because of its astonishing nature and also because the letter ended with the account of Mr. Darcy's history with Wickham, this issue was the upper most in Elizabeth's mind. She felt wretched at the way she had behaved toward Wickham, it was familiar to the say the least and flirtatious to stretch it a little. She now dwelled on the impropriety of Wickham confiding in her so early and so wholly at the very beginning of their acquaintance. _Oh how could I have believed him so easily, _she lamented, _how could I have acted so insensibly, me, who prides herself on being always unbiased and fair. Yet exactly the opposite of this is true in this incidence. I've been nothing but prejudiced where the dealings of these two gentlemen with each other are concerned._

She felt extremely agitated and getting up from her perch started to roam the grounds, but came to a halt soon due to an overwhelming urge to peruse the letter again. This time she read it with more attention. _Oh this is ridiculous, _were her first thoughts when she was going through the part where he had explained his interference in the matter of Jane and Mr. Bingley. _Yet, Jane never did openly express her feelings towards Mr. Bingley and she was just as amiable towards Mr. Collins as she was towards him, _were the second thoughts she had on the matter. _But didn't Charlotte say almost the same thing?_ Were the final and most enlightening thoughts of our heroine on the topic, for Charlotte had told Elizabeth very explicitly that she understood Jane's feelings for Mr. Bingley because being her sister, she knew her well enough to guess at the workings of her heart but an acquaintance of a few weeks could not possibly make Mr. Bingley to be an expert of the same.

Feeling a little tired but still unable to think of anything but the contents of the letter, Elizabeth sat down on a large rock nearby to read the letter for a third time. This time she settled on Mr. Darcy's observations about her family. _The gall of the man, first he abuses my family to my face and then proceeds to do some more of that in his letter too,_ were her first thoughts. _Oh that we haven't gone to that awful Netherfield ball, it is there that almost every member of my family tried their best to expose themselves in the worst possible way,_ were her second thoughts_. But he is right, oh how right he is,_ were the last thoughts of Elizabeth before she finally gave way to the tears that were threatening to flood her since last night.

"What have I done?" She cried out loud in anguish. _There was no way that I could have accepted him, strong as my dislike was, but my language was too harsh to be used against a man who was baring his soul to me,_ she thought bitterly. Because that was exactly what Mr. Darcy was doing. She now realized how difficult it must have been for a man of his disposition and pride to declare himself, and how much more awful to be rejected so vehemently. For she was convinced now that he must have thought her willing to consider his suit if not accept it directly, and instead she took everything he said and twisted it into something far worse and shoved it back in his face. She now deeply repented her behaviour if not her refusal.

Before long, weariness claimed her and she thought it best to return to the parsonage and look for some diversion as thinking more on this subject would not do at all. Maybe she should seek out the advice of Mr. Collins on one thing or another as, his absurdity might prove to be the balm her injured pride looked for, injured because what she thought to be a discernment of the highest level on her part was only a self-proclaimed virtue, and therefore had no connection to the reality. Mr. Darcy again had the right of it because he had once pointed out, though in jest, that she had a _propensity to willfully misunderstand others._

…**..**

Darcy, on reaching London dropped Colonel Fitzwilliam off at Matlock house first, before proceeding to his own house in Park Lane. It was a beautiful house, not ostentatious in any way but stately nonetheless. But Darcy wasn't in the humour to dwell on the beauties of his house, indeed not even Pemberley that always awoke the deepest pride in him every time he beheld it could have done the same this time. _A little while longer,_ he consoled himself, _only until I have dealt with Georgie, then I'll grieve, but not before._

He entered the house and a bundle of yellow flashed in front of him and then crashed into him. "Oh William, how I have missed you", a handsome young girl of not yet sixteen was looking up at him, her deep blue eyes, so like his own flashing with excitement. He laughed, despite himself.

"And what may I ask, dear Georgie has brought this fit of exuberance on? The last I heard you were quite desolate." He mocked.

"You know brother, that was because you were not here, and I was exceedingly bored with my French lessons." She pouted prettily.

"That does sound exceedingly perverse." His sympathy was wholly insincere and therefore brought on a fit of laughter to both siblings, although one's was as hollow as the cave of Cresenda.

"Do not let Mrs. Annesley know I said so William." Georgiana whispered when they saw her dismounting the stairs.

"No indeed." He winked. "But Georgie, whatever merry making you have planned for me, will have to wait till the morrow, because I am mightily tired of both Aunt Catherine and the journey. Be good enough to have my supper sent up, so I can go to bed early and be fresh to enjoy your company in the morning." He gave her his best fake smile and then bowed to Mrs. Annesley before mounting the stairs to his own chambers, heartache already engulfing his soul.

After so many hours of trying not to think about the hardest evening of his life, sitting in his room, on his favourite chair, near the slowly burning fire in his hearth, he felt as if he did not have the ability or the will to ponder it any longer. _Maybe its best not to think about it again, ever, _he thought as he closed his eyes and allowed Smith, his valet, to remove his outer clothing and set up a bath for him. _But how could I not think about it? _He surmised as if detached from the whole scenario while stepping into the bath and laying slowly in the warm water. _I must deal with it, I shall conquer this, _he thought with determination. A few more minutes passed and he found himself sitting on his favourite chair again, this time sans his valet but avec the food tray that Georgiana had sent up. He felt sorry that the food was going to go to waste but in order to keep up the farce of normalcy, he had to pretend that he wanted it.

_Now to the matter at hand, _he braced himself and disbelief at last evening's proceedings washed him anew. How a country nobody like Elizabeth Bennet could reject his suit was beyond him. That she was not impressed by his wealth and status in the world was gratifying to know as this was one of the (many) reasons why he had fallen for her in the first place. But to reject him, and so strongly and with so little an endeavour at politeness, baffled him no end. So she was not impressed by his social standing, but was there no other good quality in him that could win her heart. _Apparently not, _he snorted and got up from his perch to walk nearer to the fire, staring at it with blind eyes. What he had said about her family did not strike him as unreasonable, it was there, staring everyone in the eyes. Her younger sisters and mother did not posses a single quality that a person of his stature would like to affiliate with, yet he conquered his aversion and made her an offer wholly sincere that she did not even deign to acknowledge as worthy of gratitude. That she was hard hearted, he had no doubt now, the only wonder was how he had missed that particular trait of her character. _Never have I been so blinded by anything than her wit and her charm, _he agonized. _When I thought she was teasing me, she was actually taunting me; when I thought we were having an intelligent discussion, she was only seeking to provoke me; what I thought was a pleasing smile was only a mocking one and what I thought was her playful nature was her way of letting me know of her dislike. _He cursed under his breath and moved away from the fireplace as it was becoming too hot to endure, inside and out.

The next moment found him standing in front of the long mirror in his room. He had got it in an auction two years ago, it was expensive but what was a little money when one wanted to satisfy his tastes. Everything he had ever wanted, had been his for the taking, every material thing that is. He stared at his empty eyes. At a time when he needed his mother the most, she passed away, leaving a bereaved father and a small sister, and turning him into a sad young boy who lost his childhood sooner than most children. And when he started to enjoy life anew, life decided not to let him by taking away his father and leaving him with huge responsibilities along with robbing him of the carefree days that were yet to come. He wanted to break the beautifully carved mirror into tiny fragments, just like his heart had been, instead he appeased himself by punching the wall beside it. He turned around and slipped along the wall to sit down on the cold floor. _Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner, _were the words that haunted him. Was his behaviour really so abominable then, that he could not even be considered a gentleman, what did she know of him, of his life, why she was prejudiced in the extreme to say the least. It was as if she had made up her mind to attribute all that was bad and evil in this world to him, and no amount of convincing could ever change her mind on that. Not that he wanted to convince her. _Oh drat, _she was the first woman, the only woman who had ever come near enough to touch his heart, and she despised him, SHE DESPISED HIM. He lowered his head to his knees and wrapped his arms around it, suddenly feeling chilled to the bone.

He regretted not taking enough interest in women before, as it would seem that he knew nothing about their hearts. The woman he thought was not in love with his friend, apparently felt his loss deeply, or so her sister would have him believe, and the one he thought returned his regard thought him _the last man she could ever be prevailed upon to marry. _He laughed bitterly at the irony of it all and got up from his place on the floor. Darcy stood fixed there for a while, remembering her eyes that blazed with fury and hate at him, and not with love and passion as he had expected. _I must sleep now, _he told himself and willed his body to move toward his bed, the bed he had thought to share with Elizabeth Bennet. _No, those thoughts have to be banished from my mind forever. _He reached the bed and then fell on it hard, burying his face in the pillow. _Oh God, what have I done? _He was now thinking of Miss Jane Bennet and Bingley. Did he really separate two people who had a real chance at happiness, for real it must have been if Miss Bennet returned Bingley's regard. If Elizabeth Bennet could be good enough for the master of Pemberley, grandson to an Earl, owner of immense wealth and property, then why can Jane Bennet not be good enough for Charles Bingley, whose wealth and connections were decidedly beneath his own. On that head, he had been wrong and will correct this mistake at the earliest possible opportunity, he decided resolutely and pulled the covers up to his shoulders, trying to find a more comfortable position for sleep.

But sleep eluded him as Wickham's taunting visage formed in his mind. _Has she no sense of judgment, and yet she claims to be a student of character, _he brooded resentfully. How could she give credence to whatever lies the fiend had attributed to him? Can she not observe for herself? Does she find no honour in his character, that she so readily believed Wickham's tales of woe? These were the questions that he wanted answered but since the one person who could, was unavailable and would probably remain so, for comment, he had to come up with his own. She interpreted his silence for his pride, his dislike for dancing for his selfishness and his discomfort in society for his arrogance. All this she must have deducted in her initial assessment, but why? What could he have done to merit such censure, there was something that he was missing, some catalyst that sparked her dislike for him, but that must be left to be dealt with some other time. So where was he, oh yes her dislike for and misunderstanding of his character. He supposed that she already must have sketched his character as a black one, and when Wickham entered the scene, cunning man that he was, he must have guessed her dislike and therefore would have determined her to be not only the recipient of his artificial charm but also the tales of his imagined misfortunes. Because she must have been among the very few people he confided in since Darcy had not heard of his misfortunes from any other source.

He turned and propped himself on his left, while contemplating the conclusion he should come to soon, before his headache became too unbearable. _So I am arrogant, because I misunderstood her feelings towards me, I am presumptuous, because I misunderstood Miss Bennet's feelings towards Bingley, I am proud, because I disparaged the Bennets and their connections, I am selfish, because I destroyed Wickham and I am not a gentleman because I decided to be honest. If that is how she thinks of me then she is neither worth my love nor my compassion. I will not regret her and I will now go to sleep. _And he did fall asleep after some more convincing that he did nothing wrong, but Darcy would find in the morning, that unlike sleep, feelings of love and regret cannot be governed.

A/N: Thanks a lot to everyone who faved and followed my story and a very special thanks to **Crazygirl91 **who is the first reviewer :)

**Next Chapter : ****Elizabeth****'s stance reversed and Darcy's feelings restored**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Elizabeth's stance reversed and Darcy's feelings restored**

Elizabeth woke up to the same feelings that she had gone to sleep with. It was as if a strange sadness was slowly engulfing her, waking a multitude of emotions inside her, of which remorse was predominant. She sat up, stretched, extended her arm to the curtain and parted a little to peer outside. It was a bright sunny morning, just like yesterday, but it failed to evoke any warmth in her, just like yesterday. She sighed, and got out of bed to get ready for breakfast. She was sure that since she had woken up later than usual, Mr. Collins must be ready with a sermon on what time young ladies of inferior birth should wake up. She washed and changed, and then took her place in front of the mirror to make her hair.

Her eyes looked weary due to the dark circles that were created by the sleeplessness and crying from last night. _He was in love with me, _she wondered for the thousandth time and then caught herself using the past tense. A sad smile appeared on her lips, of course **was, **was the proper verb to be used here, for no one, not even the most steadfast of admirers, would be able to stand the unkind words she had employed two days ago. But it didn't make any difference to her, she started brushing her hair in slow methodical strokes, even if he had not abused her family and separated Jane from Mr. Bingley, he still wasn't the man to make her happy, or was he? _Oh stop it, _she chided herself and started brushing more briskly. Elizabeth had beautiful silken hair, which to her chagrin did not curl even a little, no matter how long she left them tied up with rags and curled up with pins, it would only take them a few minutes to go back to their original form. That is why she kept them short in the front, sometimes turned aside and sometimes tickling her forehead, so she wouldn't look the same every time she went out. She liked the colour though, it was a glossy chocolate brown that looked almost black at night and caught fire here and there in the sun. _What could he like in me, _it did not take her thoughts long to turn towards Mr. Darcy once more, _can it be that he liked my hair? _She thought twisting them into a classic bun expertly, but stopped short before inserting pins, her mind drifting to that incident that happened a few days ago, and which previously she had not given much thought but now seemed all important.

_Aunt Gardiner had gifted Elizabeth a beautiful bejeweled hair comb that did not require any pins to go with it because it was long and curved like the shape of the head. She had used it a couple of times before but it could never contain her thick, silky mane for long so on the said day she had asked Charlotte to fix it so it would stay in place. Charlotte did so efficiently, and after it passed the test of half an hour, Elizabeth decided to go out for her usual walk. It was a little windy that day and Elizabeth was just regretting wearing a flat bonnet without a ribbon to keep it tied to her head, when she heard voices and footsteps from behind._

_"Miss Bennet", Colonel Fitzwilliam called out just as she turned to see him accompanied, to her dismay, by Mr. Darcy. "What a pleasant surprise." Both gentlemen came to a stop near her and bowed, the Colonel smiled at her while the taller cousin fixed her with his intense gazer._

_"And why is it a surprise Sir?" She curtseyed and then asked mischievously._

_"Why only because young ladies of three counties at least are in an uproar ever since the ball at the great assembly was announced yesterday." Colonel Fitzwilliam replied equally," I was sure that the atmosphere at the parsonage would be quite delirious, and came directly for a walk without going there, as is my routine." _

_"You mock us Colonel", she tipped her head to a side, "Young ladies are not all about balls and soirees you know."_

_"Indeed," came his rejoinder, "I would not have known this if you had not told me, my personal knowledge says otherwise."_

_"And are you really so knowledgeable to the ways of young ladies in anticipation of a ball?"_

_"Not all young ladies, of course, but the young ladies of my own family, I dare say tend to turn into fire spitting dragons if their demands for the ball are not met with acquiescence, before the ball," he chuckled._

_"And does this knowledge come from some particular incident or many such?" She asked suddenly interested in how the women of the Darcy and Fitzwilliam family behaved._

_"Oh many, I should say. Darce, do you remember when Aunt Anne and Izzie taught us how to Waltz?" He turned towards his cousin and suddenly Mr. Darcy's face was lit with the most beautiful of smiles. Elizabeth was amazed and also a little entranced, he looked very handsome at that moment._

_"How can I forget," Mr. Darcy said meaningfully._

_"Really?" Ellizabeth's interest was now completely engaged._

_"Dracy's parents met in Vienna for the first time and fell in love while learning how to Waltz." The Colonel explained. She knew that both his parents were dead so she looked at him with concern and sure enough a shadow passed his face for a moment but he quickly assumed his bland expression. She felt almost sorry when his mask slipped into place._

_"My family looked down upon the dance for reasons you know, and did not let me or my siblings learn it, but Aunt Anne had no such scruples, she was terribly pampered by Darcy's old man." Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed and clapped Mr. Darcy on the back._

_"And don't forget Izzie." Mr. Darcy contributed._

_"Oh yes the formidable Isabel Georgiana Darcy, Darcy's paternal aunt, a wonder of a woman really. Henry was half in love with her during the lessons, eh Darce?" The Colonel winked at him, and Darcy suddenly became stern._

_"Richard." His tone held warning._

_'Oh I know, I must not talk this way in front of a lady and a whole set of etiquette that makes you so boring Darce," the Colonel bit back. Darcy did not respond, he just gave Colonel Fitzwilliam a pointed look. Elizabeth watched the whole scene with interest. She understood that the Colonel's allusion to the incident was in Mr. Darcy's eyes ungentlemanly and not fit for a lady's ears and the Colonel knew it and therefore caved, but not without treating Mr. Darcy to a jab._

_"Its getting a little windy here, I should go," she wanted to extract herself from the awkward situation. As if on a cue, the wind decided to pick up speed at the same moment, off went her bonnet along with the hair comb and down came her hair, tumbling all over her shoulders and back. She quickly looked up at the gentlemen and found the Colonel looking at her with unabashed admiration and Mr. Darcy…well Mr. Darcy had an odd expression on his face. His eyes had gone darker and now looked almost like the midnight sky. She wanted the Earth to engulf her whole at that moment, so acute was her embarrassment and adding to that was the blush that was fast creeping up from her neck, making her pale skin go crimson within seconds. She averted her gaze and looked about for the offending articles._

_"Allow me," Mr. Darcy said, picking up the comb that was resting near his feet, "here," he handed it out without looking at her. She looked at him in awe as she realized that he too was colouring deeply, maybe he was also embarrassed by the whole situation, she mused._

_"Thank you, Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth managed to croak out. "I think I see my bonnet over there." She was just about to go after it when he stopped her, still averting his gaze he said,_

_"I will go get it, you can…err…sty…err…tie your…um…hair till then." He stammered, and then fairly ran away after the bonnet, bringing it back in little to no time. She had decided to deposit the unreliable comb in her reticule and was hastily tying up her hair in a braid when he came back and stood in front of her, his tall frame casting her in shadow and blocking the wind. He waited without saying a word till she was done and then handed the bonnet to her, meanwhile Colonel Fitzwilliam had not bothered to avert his gaze and that had added to her discomfort many fold. She thanked Mr. Darcy, he mumbled something in response, excused himself, bowed and dragged the still gaping Colonel with him quickly to go back the way they had come._

_At that moment she had thought him insufferable, imputing his haste to a wish to get away from her before __**she tried to take him in with her hair**__. Why else would he scurry away so fast, he always used to walk with her to the parsonage on the previous occasions that they had met like this. _

Of course now she saw everything in a different light and the remembrance of her cutting words _had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner, _left her shamed. He had done everything that a gentleman would that day, from averting his eyes when she was feeling embarrassed to leaving her alone when she needed to be. She looked at herself in the mirror, her hair was done and she was ready to take on Mr. Collins, if only the thought of Mr. Darcy's darkening eyes would leave her alone. She blushed at the thought that he did not look at her as a scheming female but only as the woman he loved, it was love that darkened his eyes, love that made the usually confident Mr. Darcy mumble and stammer, love that hastened him away before he said or did something improper. _Love for me, _she thought and blushed anew before climbing down the stairs.

"You look horrible Lizzy", Charlotte remarked when she saw her. "Is your headache still persisting?"

"Oh no, I feel much better today." She replied. "Where's Mr. Collins? I come prepared for his stricture on the disadvantages of laying in for young ladies." Elizabeth teased her friend, Maria giggled and Charlotte gave them a mock scowl.

"He was called away by her ladyship." Charlotte told her. "Your breakfast awaits in the dinning parlour and you better eat it before everything gets cold."

Elizabeth nodded and went to the parlour, taking some scrambled eggs and toast with tea and sitting down to eat, her thoughts moving unbidden to Mr. Darcy. She looked out the window towards Rosings and sighed, regret filling her again. If he were ever to propose to her again, she would be much more civil in her refusal. Oh that she had been so in the first place because it would be foolish indeed to think that he would ever renew his addresses, not that she wanted him to. But unknown yet to Elizabeth Bennet, her stance on Mr. Darcy had quite reversed.

…**..**

Darcy woke up early after a fitful night's sleep, with an angry Elizabeth Bennet reigning his dreams. Gone was the playful creature who returned his passionate kisses with sweet ones of her own. The force of her hate had scorched his soul so that as he sat up in his bed, the covers lay all in disarray as a proof of his distressing nightmares. He got up as his valet materialized out of thin air to prepare him for the day, another one with the burden of his lost dreams and her disgust.

As he entered the informal small dinning room, Georgiana sat waiting for him.

"Good morning William." She gave him a bright smile, stood up and curtseyed. He bowed.

"Why so formal Georgie? Come let us eat first and plan for the day afterwards." He said and moved towards the side board. After eating almost nothing for the whole of yesterday, his stomach was grumbling like a bear. He heaped his plate and sat at the head of the table, where Georgiana was already sitting with her eggs and muffins.

"I come prepared to do your bidding sweeting," Darcy said in an attempt to sound cheerful, "What do you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we should go for a walk and talk some about your trip to Kent." Georgiana suggested.

"Wonderful idea, after so many days in the country, I'm rather used to taking walks in the fresh air." He acquiesced easily, without giving his word on _talking about his time in Kent._

…

The park was mostly occupied by young children with their nannies at this time of the day with an odd sprinkling of a couple here and there. Darcy and Georgiana picked a relatively secluded path and started their walk.

"So, how was Kent?" Asked Georgiana after walking in silence for some time.

"It was almost the same as every year," Darcy replied, "with Aunt Catherine demanding to have her share in every conversation and her parson bowing every time she looked his way."

"And Richard provoking her at every meal and you ignoring them and going for long walks." Georgiana took the narrative in her own hands and looked at him laughing, but got concerned when she saw him wince as she finished the sentence.

"What is it William? Are you unwell?" She grabbed his arm and turned him towards herself. In that moment Darcy decided that he could not carry the burden of this secret alone, he had to share it with someone, someone who will not make fun of him, someone who will not judge him and some one who will understand and there was only one person who he could trust in this, _Georgie._

"No," he turned away and they started walking again, "I'm fine, but Georgie there is something I would like to share with you, in my own time," he stopped and sighed heavily, "until then, if my behaviour ever seems strange to you, bear with me and I beg you do not ask questions or get unnecessarily worried. I need your silence and understanding now more than ever sweeting."

"Of course," cried the poor girl, "you need not ask brother, you'll have it, always."

"I thank you," he calmed at her easy compliance and kissed her hand as they walked on in silence till Georgiana suggested they sit on a nearby bench.

"How was Anne?" Georgiana asked.

"She was much the same, I think," he frowned, "but I am afraid I did not pay her much attention this time."

"Has her health impro…," she did not get to finish her sentence when two little girls of five or six years old came running towards them, they were fighting about something and the older one snatched the younger girl's hat off her head and her hair came undone and got spread all over her shoulders. Georgiana heard Darcy gasp and get up as if struck by lightening.

"I want to go home Georgie," he said hurriedly, "now."

"Alright," baffled, she stood up quickly and put her hand on his extended arm as they made their way back to their home as fast as possible.

…..

"Will you play for me?" Darcy requested as they got settled in the music room after supper.

"I will, of course. What do you want me to play?" She asked, even though all she wanted to do was ask the reason behind his mood swings.

"Something soothing please," he said as he settled himself on a chair near the fireplace. Georgiana nodded and sat on the stool, selected a peaceful piece and started playing.

Darcy closed his eyes and gave way to the thoughts that he had not allowed himself to dwell on all day. It was too much really to not think about her. How easy it was to decide not to regret her, not to love her and how difficult it was to actually carry it out. Instead of him conquering his weakness for her, she had captured, once again, his every thought, his every waking moment. The resolution he had made yesterday night of giving her up as lost seemed really absurd as the hours passed. He himself had written her on his heart with love that could not, nay, would not be ignored. She was mocking his weakness, daring him to forget her, but he could not. He sighed heavily. She had pronounced him to be the worst of men to his face and he still could not forget her, such was the power she had on him, such was the power he had allowed her to have on him. He still resented her words, her behaviour, her expressions but he could not resent her. Slowly but surely, the realization of how _his _words might have sounded to _her _was dawning on him. Was she also hurt by his behaviour? Surely he had not said anything that was not true. He had not attacked her character, just illuminated how her family came across to strangers. He had wrongly judged Miss Jane Bennet's serene countenance to be a mark of indifference, but here ended his mistake, and mistake it was, nothing else. There was no malicious intent behind his advice to Bingley contrary to what Miss Elizabeth Bennet might think.

He had agreed to go to the park to take his mind off her, but that young girl whose hair got loose took him back to that day, when he and Richard had gone out for a walk and encountered Elizabeth.

_It was a windy day, but the sun was out and so they had both preferred to go for a walk instead of staying in and listening to Lady Catherine lecture them about the adverse effects such a windy day could have on Anne's delicate health. So it was that they came across Miss Bennet, who was also, probably, looking for a respite from her relative._

_She was wearing a flatter bonnet with a beige dress that was swinging lightly with the wind, her hand on her head to stop the bonnet from flying away. His heart had skipped at least one beat to be sure. Richard had immediately engaged her in a witty discussion of a ball that was to be held in the local assembly. He had tried to chime in here and there, but mostly just tried not to stare too much at her. But his eyes were just as treacherous as his heart. As Richard was about to say something improper, Darcy had interrupted him and Miss Bennet was about to excuse herself when suddenly the wind had picked up, thereby dislodging her bonnet and something else that was holding her hair together. It was a moment he was sure to remember till the day he took his last breath. As her beautiful hair came down like a waterfall and fell on her shoulders, Darcy felt his breath hitch. She blushed a most becoming pink, and he was sure that he would have confessed all in that moment if Richard was not standing there ogling her like a buffoon._

_He then saw her about to stoop to pick up something near his feet and dissuaded her quickly, because of two reasons, one was that it was the gentlemanly thing to do, of course, and second was that he could barely control his heart at the site of her loosened hair, if she bent at his feet (even if it was only to pick up that jeweled thing), he would not be able to take in the site of her neckline, that previously had only limited itself to his dreams. At such shameless thoughts in broad day light, his colour heightened and he thought it best to run after her bonnet. When he came back she was braiding her hair, under Richards unwavering attention, with her lower lip between her teeth. If only it were his teeth instead of hers, thought Darcy wistfully, shocking himself in the process. This is not to be borne, he thought in a typical Lady Catherine fashion and dragged Richard away after handing her the bonnet._

_That night his dreams had taken a new direction. Not acquainted with Miss Elizabeth Bennet's hair previously, he hadn't given them much thought. But now he thought about them for hours (and dreamed about them for days). How soft they had seemed and how different from other women's hair, there was no bend in them, no curl, they were like molten chocolate (now that was taking it a bit too far), he had laughed. Like brown satin, shiny and smooth, now that was an apt comparison. She looked unlike any time he had seen her before, unlike anytime he had dreamt of her before. So he had decided to dream of her like that, with her hair, __**just**__ her hair._

Darcy suddenly opened his eyes, the music had stopped and Georgiana was looking at him with concern. "Won't you tell me now William," she pleaded, "I am terribly concerned about you."

"Soon sweeting," he got up from his chair and started walking towards the door. At the door he stopped and turned, "I promise. Now I must retire. Good Night," and then he was gone.

**Next Chapter : ****Elizabeth**** is Reasoned With and Darcy is Reprimanded**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Elizabeth is Reasoned With and Darcy is Reprimanded**

"I wish you weren't just stopping over," Jane said sadly. "Stay Lizzy", she urged, "stay a few more days, then we'll go back together."

"No Jane darling," Elizabeth lightly shook her head to emphasize her decision." I need to go home now. I miss my room and Papa and even Mama's nerves."

"I miss all that too Lizzy," Jane smiled. "Well I will be there in a few more weeks," she brightened at the thought.

Jane and Elizabeth were in the guest room at their Uncle Gardiner's house in London. Elizabeth had reached their in the evening with Maria Lucas. The last week of her stay in Kent had been helpful in ascertaining her feelings about a lot of things, including herself. She had realized her folly in being too trusting towards Wickham and the opposite towards Mr. Darcy. She had also learned that if Mr. Darcy had been mistaken in thinking Jane indifferent towards Mr. Bingley, Elizabeth herself had given Mr. Bingley the credit for feelings, stronger than they actually were. She did not completely exempt Mr. Darcy from misdirecting his friend, but she did concede that he did not force Mr. Bingley to do his bidding, it was Jane's ill luck that she fell in love with a man who trusted others opinions more than he did his own. Mr. Darcy's harsh attacks on the impropriety of her family had hurt immensely for sometime but she allowed their justice after she had recovered from the shock of his proposal and the subsequent letter. Lying across from Jane, looking at her guileless and trusting yet sad eyes, she realized more than ever that if not all, at least some part of her grief was due to her beloved family members, and that thought filled her heart with sorrow. Her heavy sigh caught Jane's attention.

"Is everything alright Lizzy?" She asked, concerned, "you don't seem your usual lively self."

"Oh Jane," she cried sorrowfully, "I had the most terrible fight with Mr. Darcy."

"Fight with Mr. Darcy?" Jane's blue eyes became the size of saucers, "whatever for Lizzy?"

"He…he…," here she faltered and could not go on. The feeling of disbelief that Mr. Darcy could be in love with her, overwhelming her anew.

"Tell me Lizzy," Jane sat up, "what happened?"

"He proposed to me Jane. Can you believe it? Mr. Darcy asked me to marry him."

"What?" Jane looked utterly bewildered, "Lizzy, you're not joking are you?"

"Of course not Jane, but I can well imagine your incredulity, I still find it hard to believe," Elizabeth smiled a little and then went on to give Jane a detailed account of first the proposal and then the letter, but she deliberately left out any mention of Mr. Bingley from both, she simply reasoned that this would be painful for Jane.

"So Jane, how would you defend us both in this event? Elizabeth teased her, "whose fault do you think it was? Or would you say that there was some misunderstanding?

"Do not tease me Lizzy, but it is so extraordinary," Jane said, "Poor Mr. Darcy, he must be sure of your regard, a man like him does not propose until completely sure. What a blow it must have been for him to be thus rejected by the woman he loved."

"I never gave him even the slightest encouragement Jane, you know I did not," Elizabeth did not know who she was trying to reassure.

"Of course being your sister I know that Lizzy," Jane agreed, "but Mr. Darcy does not know you like your family and friends do. What to us was you showing your dislike via aggressive argument might have seemed to him like a mere attempt at prolonging the conversation. He might have taken it as encouragement," she reasoned and Elizabeth was taken aback by the similarity of what Jane just said about her to what Charlotte had once said about Jane. In both instances the argument boiled down to the fact that the men they meet, frequently or otherwise, cannot know them like their family or friends and therefore can misjudge their motives.

"Yes," she said thoughtfully, "you are right on that head but what say you of the language he used against our family, you cannot defend him on that count Jane."

"Yes Lizzy, what he said about our family to your face and what you said about him to his, cannot be defended, but atleast…," here she stopped and blushed.

"What Jane?" Elizabeth urged, "you cannot stop now."

"I just…I meant…," Jane stopped again, took a deep breath and then continued in a strained voice, "well at least what he said was correct."

"Why Jane", she cried in exasperation, "are you defending Mr. Darcy against me? That is a blow indeed."

"I am not defending his mode of declaration Lizzy, a lot of things that he said then should better have been left unsaid until later when the relationship was strong enough to accept such disapproval, or not at all, but think of it from his point of view."

"Why should I think of it from his point of view when he did not think of it from mine," Elizabeth huffed and folded her arms on her chest.

"How do you know, maybe he did, afterwards," Jane said evenly.

"What is his point of view anyway, not that I care," Elizabeth asked casually.

"I cannot presume to know his mind Lizzy, but have you thought of it this way that maybe he was just trying to tell you of the depth of his love? Maybe what he was trying to show you, not very eloquently, that no matter how huge the objections (and to him they must have seemed so) he had triumphed over them, **for you.** He is the grandson of an Earl on his mother's side, my dear sister, and belongs to one of the oldest families in England on his father's, with immeasurable wealth and impeccable connections. If he says that _he could not rejoice in the inferiority of your connections, _well he could not, that is not to say that he should have said it outright and to your face, but he cannot be faulted for struggling with the idea of acquiring relatives based in trade. He did conquer his pride for you though, but did you conquer your prejudice?" Jane looked questioningly at a stunned Elizabeth and after seeing that no answer was forth coming, became alarmed.

" Lizzy, dearest," Jane took hold of both of Elizabeth's hands, which had gone considerably cold, "oh now I've hurt you," she cried, "you look so shocked, are you angry at me? Please do not be angry at me," pleaded Jane.

"No indeed Jane, I am not angry at you, how can I be when every word you have said is true," Elizabeth smiled ruefully, "it is just strange to see you give so passionate a speech. But you have more to say, do you not? I want your honesty more than anything else now. Please go on."

"I…I…do think Lizzy that you…indeed we all of us gave too much credence to what Mr. Wickham said," Jane said guiltily.

"But not you Jane, you always said that Mr. Darcy could not be that bad," Elizabeth consoled her.

"And I earnestly believe it. Lizzy I know that you think I am too apt to think that everybody is good and kind, but do you not see that when someone we think good turns out bad we are disappointed in them, but when the opposite happens we are then disappointed in ourselves, and that is much worse dearest," Jane gently caressed Elizabeth's hands.

"How right you are Jane," Elizabeth cried, "this is exactly what I have been thinking. Oh you know not how I have berated myself for thinking Mr. Darcy devoid of any good quality, and on the basis of what? Just because he did not think me handsome enough, I declared him to be the worst of men. What he said about me to Mr. Bingley that day was not meant to be heard by me but when I called him selfish, arrogant, conceited and proud, I meant him to hear every word. I wanted to hurt him Jane, what do you make of that?" She now had tears in her eyes.

"Oh no Lizzy, I know that you cannot be blamed for being purposefully mean. Even though you disliked him, I am sure you never thought of saying all those awful things to his face. Whatever you said was said as a reaction to his words, which though true, could not be easily got over."

"That is true Jane, and I have not gotten over them yet, but allowing them justice has allowed me to rethink my persistent dislike of him," Elizabeth admitted.

"So you do not hate him anymore?" Jane asked smiling.

"No indeed, I never hated him, but my strong dislike has been completely done away by the realization that he must have thought me _handsome enough to tempt him, _otherwise he would not have proposed," Elizabeth straightened her shoulders with a haughty expression on her face that made Jane laugh.

"Do be serious Lizzy," She admonished playfully, "do you now like Mr. Darcy?"

"I do not dislike him, nor am I indifferent to him, but I do not like him either. Indeed I cannot, yet. Maybe if I do not see him for a while, I might start to attribute some imaginary good qualities to him," Elizabeth's impish smile made Jane giggle.

"They do not have to be imaginary," she argued. "His behaviour towards Mr. Wickham is a proof of his generous nature, and his love for you a proof of his good taste," indeed, Jane also knew how to tease and so it was that Elizabeth blushed.

"I think we have had enough discussion on this topic to last us for a lifetime," she yawned and crashed on her pillow, quite done in. "Good night, dearest."

"Good night," Jane returned and blew off the candle on her side.

…**.**

Darcy averted his face from Georgiana's shocked countenance. He had moped around for a week, before she had cornered him in his study and demanded he _spit it out._ So he did just that, holding nothing back, bringing to life the whole of their acquaintance, from Hertfordshire to Kent and especially the day of the proposal. He detailed all that was said that day in exactly the way it was said. He even told her, though a little haltingly, about the letter. The truth was that he had gotten tired of fighting with his demons alone. He had realized his mistake in assuming too much, be it Miss Jane Bennet's regard for Bingley or her sister's lack thereof for him. He had also recognized his mistake in elaborating on the struggles he had gone through before coming to terms with his love for her, while proposing, because where he meant it to be a proof of the solidity of his emotions for her she had obviously taken it as only a further proof of his pride and arrogance. But all that was done, and much as dwelling on it had become his favourite pastime, no amount of thinking it over, was going to change the fact that it could not be changed. What he needed now was an assurance on two points, first that the letter he wrote, horrible as it was, must have made her see him in a better light and second that they would never come across each other again. He turned his gaze back towards Georgiana, willing her to give that assurance.

"You…you…said all that…all that stuff about her family…to her…in…in a proposal?" Georgie looked at him in disbelief. Darcy looked at her beseechingly, pleading with his eyes to go gentle on him.

"Oh William, she would not have accepted such a proposal even if she loved you," she threw up her hands in exasperation, "but she did not, she felt exactly the opposite. Do you not see that your words must have confirmed every misconception that she harbored against you? Your words, your cruel cruel words," Darcy cringed at this, but Georgiana now pacing the study continued without noticing. "They must have been proof of every appalling trait she attributed to you. She must have ascribed your interference in Mr. Bingley's affairs to your arrogance and presumption, your behaviour towards…Wickam," here she faltered a little but steadied herself quickly and went on, "your behaviour towards him, she had already accredited to your selfishness, but the mode of your proposal, brother, that must have been a severe blow to her self-respect. Indeed, she must have thought you to be a most conceited being." She stopped and regarded Darcy's tortured countenance and her heart melted, she took quick steps to where he sat slumped in his chair and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I do not mean to be harsh, but you need to come to terms with the scale of what you did William."

"But what of her words Georgie? You know not how she provoked me that day. I just could not accept that she disliked me so much when I had convinced myself of her regard, and so I said those things that I am heartily ashamed of now," he said sorrowfully.

"Have you given any thought, since that day, to how she must have felt about the whole of it?" Georgiana asked pointedly.

"Of course I have," he bristled, "I am not so heartless as women seem to think nowadays," Georgiana smiled at his petulant expression.

"Then you must allow the justice of her words that _she could not have accepted the person who destroyed the happiness of a most beloved sister. _Indeed if she loves her sister even half as much as you love me, you must know how she must have hated you for separating her from the man she loved, even if you did it under a mistaken premise," Georgiana said equably and the asked, "why did you do it William?"

"You know why Georgie, please do not make me go through all that again. It pains me immensely that I separated two people in love, even if my intentions were good, especially now that I know what it feels like to be separated from somebody you thought of sharing your whole life with," Darcy said in a hollow voice.

"What do you intend to do about it?" Georgiana asked, moving back to her chair.

"As soon as Bingley comes back from Scarborough, I shall explain everything to him and convince him, if he will still listen to me, to go back to Hertfordshire."

"And will you accompany him there?" She asked carefully this time. Darcy fairly jumped.

"Accompany him?" He cried, "to Hertfordshire? Whatever for? I do not think I will be ready to face Miss Bennet in a million years, let alone in a couple of months."

"So you give her up?" Georgiana raised her eyebrows.

"She hates me Georgie," he said dejectedly, "I cannot stop loving her, but I have already stopped hoping she will be mine someday. I hope I am clever enough to know when to give up." Georgie looked thoughtful for a moment and then said,

"Perhaps it is for the best. I do not think there is any chance of you two meeting again anyway. But I do not think that she hates you William," Georgiana's soft words surprised him.

"Why do you say that Georgie?" He asked curiously.

"Well a large part of her dislike was formed on the lies told her by Wickham, and you cleared that up in your letter. You also clarified your mistake in the case of her sister and the groundwork for your disapproval of her family. If she is half as intelligent as you make her out to be, I am sure she must have realized why you acted the way you did," Georgiana reasoned.

"Well," he said after pondering her words for a few moments and then smiled a forlorn half smile, "right now that is all I ask for."

**Next Chapter : ****Elizabeth**** hears him and Darcy listens to her**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Some non-cannon fun here, cuz I want Elizabeth to keep on falling for Darcy, even in his absence.

**Chapter 5: Elizabeth hears him and Darcy listens to her**

Jane had convinced Elizabeth to stay in town for at least a week more and Maria was easily persuaded as well. Mrs. Gardiner was also happy to have her for a week more because a ball in the upper echelons of the ton was coming up for a wealthy and influential client of Mr. Gardiner's, Lord Munroe had invited them to it, and she was keen for both her nieces to attend, and because Elizabeth loved balls, she was easily persuaded. What Mrs. Gardiner did not know was that Elizabeth needed the distraction of a ball more than she wanted it. Her mind was still too occupied with the events of a week past to be at ease. But though Mrs. Gardiner had noticed her absence of mind, the real reason for it was something she could never guess at. So it was that to elevate the dejected spirits of Elizabeth and Jane, she decided they take a trip to the shops, Maria due to a slight indisposition declined but Elizabeth was more than eager as she wanted to buy gifts for everyone at home.

They made it in good time to the busy street where they intended to shop but the expedition took longer than they thought and by the time they reached the book shop, Mrs. Gardiner was feeling quite tired.

"Aunt Madeline, you look quite fatigued," Jane commented.

"Indeed I am, but if we leave without spending some time in the bookshop, I am sure Lizzy will be grumpier than when we set out today," she teased Elizabeth.

"That is true Aunt, but I am sure your well being is dearer to me than most books, if not all," Elizabeth returned laughingly. The other two ladies smiled.

"Here is a bookshop Lizzy, why do you not go inside while I take Aunt Madeline to that park over there," Jane pointed to the far left side, "we shall sit in clear view of the entrance so that we do not miss you when you come."

"Is it alright by you Aunt?" Elizabeth asked consciously.

"Of course. That will suit everyone admirably," Mrs. Gardiner smiled.

"I shall not be too late, I promise," Elizabeth called out as they moved away. They nodded and walked on.

Elizabeth felt relieved as she entered the cool atmosphere of the shop, and quickly moved towards the nearest shelf, slowly making her way to the back while touching the spines of books that interested her. At the back most shelf she took out a copy of _Twelfth Night _by the bard, and started fingering through. She was thus engaged when she heard some voices approaching.

"… saw me in this section of Harold's, looking for those senseless novels you read, I will be thrown out of polite society," said a rich, deep voice that Elizabeth was sure she would recognize anywhere. _Mr. Darcy, _she gasped. Her first impulse was to run away, but she knew that she would not be able to go anywhere from her corner in the shop without calling Mr. Darcy and his companion's notice. So she decided to stay as quiet as possible and hope that they will go away soon. Her heart thumped loudly as she realized that they had stopped directly in front of her but on the other side of the shelf she was perusing.

"Oh William, relax, no one will see you and even if they did, they will appreciate you for being an attentive brother rather than a closet fan of Mrs. Radcliffe's," said a soft female voice in a slightly teasing tone, from the other side. _This must be his sister, _mused Elizabeth and forgetting the book, gave all her attention to the conversation going on between the two siblings. There was some movement and then Mr. Darcy's voice again said,

"Please Georgie, I beg you, do not buy _The Hidden Passions of Miss Penelope Chambers," _he said in a half laughing, half alarmed voice that made his sister as well as Elizabeth giggle, that he could be so playful was something she could never have guessed.

"Do not worry, dear brother, I would not pollute your dear library with such nonsense, I'll instead go for _The Illicit Ardour of the Clergyman's Daughter." _Mr. Darcy groaned loudly and Elizabeth had to stifle her laugh with her sleeve.

"Do not be so skeptical William," Miss Darcy admonished, "I am sure you have some odd novels of your own stashed somewhere like Richard."

"Contrary to what _some people_ might think, I am a gentleman Georgie", his tone darkened a little and Elizabeth flinched at the reminder of her own words, he was clearly alluding to what she had said to him at the parsonage, "and gentlemen do not indulge in such frivolous pursuits. I am wounded at the thought of you classing me with the likes of Richard, who does not have **some** odd novels,but owns a veritable library, the likes of which will certainly put the Library at Pemberley to shame," by the end of the sentence, his tone became light hearted again, but Elizabeth found it difficult to regain her composure.

"Your exaggeration does you credit Mr. Darcy," Georgiana giggled and then asked in a more serious tone, "were you thinking of **her** just now, when you said that thing about being a gentleman?" Elizabeth was sure she did not breathe, even a little, until she heard Mr. Darcy's answer.

"Yes," he replied without pause.

"Do you still think about what she said that day?" Miss Darcy asked.

"Yes," He said again.

"But you said you had given her up, that you do not ever want to see her again," she said this like a child who does not understand something. Elizabeth felt suddenly cold at the thought of Mr. Darcy's hatred. How ironic was it that right when she stopped hating him, he started hating her.

"I do not, but it is still too new to dismiss completely Georgie. I am trying though and it would be easier if you did not bring her up in every discussion," He admonished in the end but his tone was pleasant, as if he was smiling while saying this.

"Are you ready to fall in love again William?" Miss Darcy seemed like a very persistent girl to Elizabeth.

"This is not the kind of discussion we should be having in a public place Georgie, for all we know there is somebody standing behind this shelf listening to everything we are saying," Mr. Darcy was obviously teasing his sister, but Elizabeth felt like getting caught red handed while stealing something.

"Do not change the subject, tell me," said his determined interrogator.

"No indeed, I am not. Love dear sister is vastly overrated. It did not bring me any pleasure, so I wash my hands off it," Mr. Darcy's answer made Elizabeth feel unaccountably oppressed.

"Oh William, surely you do not mean it," cried Miss Darcy.

"Surely I do," he replied evenly, "and now I think we ought to get going, I hope you haven't forgotten that Richard is coming to tea and that you are expected at the Colliers."

"Fine, the novel Bella recommended is not available here…," their voices faded as they moved away and Elizabeth released a long held breath.

…

Elizabeth went from the shop to the park and from there onwards to her Uncle's house in a haze of multiple emotions that she was unable to decipher. It seemed hard to believe that she had encountered Mr. Darcy ( though she was behind a shelf and he was unaware of her being there) so soon after their bitter argument, let alone that she had heard him discuss her with his sister.

She found it difficult to believe that a proud, reticent and unfriendly man like Mr. Darcy would confide, not only the rejection of his hand by a woman but also the mode of it to his sister. A sister too who was more than ten years his junior, if Miss Bingley was to be believed. The Darcys were obviously a pair, close in feeling and in hearts like herself and Jane. One by one every impression she had ever created of the reserved man had been proved to be wrong. The easy repertoire Mr. Darcy shared with his sister, was a testament to a facet of his personality she had previously not been a aware of.

She thought about him throughout dinner and then excused herself on a plea of headache. Lying on her bed after changing into her night dress, she dwelled on her own opinions of him. Why did she always jump to conclusions about him, and conclusions too that were mostly wrong? He declined to dance so he must be arrogant but not shy, he did not talk much so he must be proud but not reserved, he divided Mr. Bingley from Jane so he must be selfish about who his friend associates with but not simply looking out for his friend so he did not jump into a loveless marriage, he was more than ten years older than his sister so they cannot possibly be close to each other. And the last assumption, because he loved her despite a lot of hurdles so he must still be in love with her, what folly had she been indulging in.

Miss Darcy's words _you said that you never want to see her again, _hurt her more than she was willing to admit, and Mr. Darcy's response _love never gave me any pleasure _made her heart heavy with an unknown burden. Did love for her bring no happiness to Mr. Darcy? Indeed how could it, he must have spent a large portion of their time together fighting his attraction to her, and once he accepted its power and decided to open his heart to her, she threw it into his face. Elizabeth hid her face in the pillow, feeling miserable for a yet unknown reason, willing Mr. Darcy to leave her thoughts so she could sleep in peace.

**...**

"Richard," cried Georgiana and flew into Colonel Fitzwilliam's arms. Darcy smiled and the Colonel laughed outright.

"I have been waiting to meet you for days now," Georgiana complained, "where have you been?"

"Calm down child," he grabbed her hand and took her to the love seat near the window of Darcy's study, "I was busy at the War office. Even Mother did not get to see me for three days straight."

"How are things at the War office?" Darcy poured Colonel Fitzwilliam a glass of port and walked towards him offering it.

"The same. A lot of…"

"If you two are going to bore me with war talk then I might as well go to Aunt Izzie's an hour early." Georgiana cut him and pouted.

"Izzie?" The Colonel raised an eyebrow, "is she in town?" he asked taking the glass from Darcy's hand. Darcy nodded and then moved back to his place by the hearth.

"The girls wanted to shop for the summer and Mark was getting restless, as is his wont so Zack packed them all off to have some peace at home," he explained the sudden trip of his father's only sister, who lived in Devonshire, to London.

"I cannot believe that you call Aunt Izzie and Uncle Zack by their names, William," Georgiana looked bewildered as she always was whenever she heard Darcy do that.

"And I have explained it to you a million times dearest that growing up I spent a lot of time with them and when I started calling them by their names like everyone else, I was encouraged to do it by everyone because they thought it was endearing, and thus I kept on doing it even when it stopped being endearing," He mocked, "and this reminds me, do you not have a tea engagement with Irene and Bella?

"I do," she jumped up from her perch, "I must go get ready or they'll both be frightfully angry at me." Georgiana started moving towards the door and then turned around and curtseyed Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Good bye Richard, I wish we could talk some more but Irene and Bella would not know what to do without me."

"Of course darling, I know a busy girl like you could not have time for an old boring relative like me," he teased in return, but started laughing at her alarmed expression, "off with you now." Georgiana sighed with relief at his laughter, knowing that he could not really be mad at her and exited the room quietly.

"Well, she seems improved," said Colonel Fitzwilliam to Darcy.

"She does indeed seem in much better spirits since the Colliers came three days ago," Darcy agreed, "she is fast friends with the younger girls."

"And how is the heartless Ilythia?" Asked the Colonel deviously.

"Richard," Darcy admonished. "You know she is nothing of the sort, she is just prudent and I commend her for that."

"I am sure you do, after all you are a great advocate of prudence. Did you not just stop that chap Bingley from an _imprudent _match a while ago?" The Colonel said sardonically. Darcy winced.

"You would be happy to know Richard that I have begun to think my interference officious," he said in a dejected tone.

"Have you now?" The Colonel sat up a little. "These are exactly the words Miss Bennet used when I told her of your interference in Bingley's affairs," for a second, Darcy's blood stopped moving in his veins and then it raced ahead with great pressure. _So that is how she knew, blast Richard, the man cannot keep his mouth shut, _he thought. He wanted to ask the Colonel a thousand questions about how such a conversation came to pass, but reined himself in albeit with great difficulty. It would not do to argue this matter with him. He would get to the bottom of it in no time.

"Well for once, we agreed on something then," Darcy tried to make light of it.

"Indeed," the Colonel looked surprised for a moment but then smiled, "it would seem that way. But tell me Darcy, you said the lady's mother was a vulgar woman, was she more so than Aunt Catherine?"

Darcy looked stunned for a moment, as if he had not considered such a thing before, "No Richard," he said when he was at last able to regain his composure, "I am afraid not."

"Well then there you have it," smiled the good Col., "Every family has a set of improper and absurd characters, that should not be a reason on the basis of which one should reject or accept their future spouses."

"I believe you are right Richard," Darcy said thoughtfully, "I believe you are right."

….

That night when the house slept, Darcy laid wide awake in the library, pondering on what Richard had said. It was true that Mrs. Bennet was a woman who never thought beyond getting her daughters married and well settled, but so did a lot of the ton _mamas_. _And at least she does not go around saying that her daughter is engaged to me, because that is exactly what Lady Catherine_ _does, _he thought bitterly. And then his mind jumped on another fact, even though the younger Miss Bennets flirted shamelessly with the officers, none of them had tried to elope with one, unlike his own sister.

He stood up and started pacing about the length of the room. _So it happens that Elizabeth Bennet was right in whatever she thought of me, I deserve every accusation she leveled against me, except where Wickham is concerned, and that is only because I chose to stay quiet. _His lament at the way he had spoken _to_ her and _of_ hers was now great. No matter in what light he tried to defend his conduct on that fateful evening in Hunsford, he could not declare himself blameless. Everywhere he looked in the library, she was there, eyes blazing and accusations flying off her lips, she was on every page of every book he picked up to distract himself. His torture started with the advent of every morning, she would materialize at his side in the mirror, peer up at him from his tea cup and scorch him with her arch smile as she appeared in the hearth fire. He could not get away from her, today when he had gone to Harolds to please Georgiana, he had felt her particular scent of lavender wafting through from the book shelf they were exploring in search of some absurd novel that she wanted to read.

Georgiana, dear dear Georgiana. It was for her that he was exerting himself to go on as though nothing had happened, as though his soul had not been ripped apart from him, as though his heart had not shattered into a million pieces. If he loved his sister so much as to exert himself into some semblance of tranquility, when inside he was nothing but a heap of sorrow and despair, then what must Elizabeth (it was no use calling her Miss Bennet, she was Elizabeth to him and would always be) have felt when she found out that Darcy was the reason behind the unhappiness of his sister. _Do you think that any consideration, would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister? _Those were the words she had used, and how just how right they were. Would he have accepted a woman who had tried to destroy Georgiana's prospects, **no. **In that moment he knew that when he convinced Bingley of Miss Bennet's indifference, he had actually sealed his fate to live without the woman he loved for the rest of his life, and even though he knew that he and Elizabeth could never be united now, at least he could give Bingley his happiness back. Yes, he stopped his frantic pacing, that is exactly what he would do. As soon as Bingley comes back, he would confess that he was wrong and convince Bingley that going back to Netherfield was the only course of action for him.

He left the Library then to go to his chambers and sleep, because suddenly he felt lighter than he had in days. Yes, he thought entering his empty chamber, he had told his valet to retire for the night, I will unite Miss Jane Bennet and Bingley, God willing, and I will stop moping about. Maybe he was a little proud and arrogant, but he was not conceited, selfish or heartless. He would reassess his faults in the light of what she had said, he decided to listen to her and try to become a better person and then maybe in time, in a lot of time, he would find someone to love who will love him back, that Elizabeth would not be that woman, he doubted not because she was as lost to him as Eden was to Adam and Eve when they were banished from there. But no, he will not dwell on such morose thoughts, he would think only of how to improve himself and of how to make life better for his loved ones. And he would start by going to the Munroe ball tomorrow, after all Mark and Ilythia had requested him most fervently to come, and he had declined only because balls made him uncomfortable. He climbed into bed after changing into his night clothes, settled his head on the soft pillow and closed his eyes. _I will take Elizabeth's advice and practice being sociable at a ball, _was his last thought as sleep claimed him almost immediately.

**Next Chapter: Elizabeth Hides and Darcy Seeks**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Elizabeth Hides and Darcy Seeks**

The day of the Munroe ball brought a great deal of activity to the Gardiner house, most of which was reluctantly done. The young ladies in the house at the time, all had a different reason not to be too excited about it. Jane's heart was not in it because any social activity that held no promise to bring her face to face with Mr. Bingley, held no promise to bring her happiness, Elizabeth was afraid that Mr. Darcy might be in attendance and after her bookshop interlude with him, albeit unknown to him, that just would not do, and poor Maria could hardly be faulted for hating the very idea of the ball since she was not yet out and therefore was not to go. Mrs. Gardiner, unaware of the opinions of her nieces about the said ball, assumed them to be positive and therefore got them both new gowns for the occasion. Jane's was an ice blue whereas Elizabeth chose a soft grape green, Maria just sulked some more.

"Jane, I saw Mr. Darcy and his sister yesterday at the bookshop after you and Aunt Madeline went to the park," Elizabeth told Jane while fixing up her hair.

"You did?" A very astonished Jane turned around to look at her sister from her perch in front of the mirror. Elizabeth nodded.

"That is to say that I did not see them, I…I heard them talking from…behind…a…bookshelf," Elizabeth knew that Jane would not approve of her eavesdropping on a private conversation but really, it was not as if she had a choice.

"You mean you eavesdropped?" Jane's large blue eyes got even larger.

"I was stuck behind a shelf Jane, there was no way out without him seeing me," she pouted and turned Jane's head back towards the mirror to insert the last few pins.

"Lizzy," Jane shook her head, "what happened then, what were they saying?"

"They…he…well I do not…do not exactly, that is, remember…ahem…the exact words, but…the meaning of what they said was obvious enough," Elizabeth was clearly having a lot of difficulty repeating the conversation between the Darcys.

"And it was?" Jane encouraged her to continue.

"It was that…that…that he hates me now and never wants to see me again," she finished quickly and winced at the end of the sentence.

"He said that?" Jane quickly got up from the stool and putting her hands to Elizabeth's shoulders, gently pushed her to sit on it, so she could both fix her hair and comfort her.

"Well, not in so many words," she sighed and started brushing her long tresses, harshly.

"Oh Lizzy," Jane took the brush from her for fear that she might pull some of the hair out by their roots. Clearly this encounter had left Elizabeth very agitated. "And you are sorry he feels that way?" She asked softly, while brushing her hair out.

"Yes," said Elizabeth in a hollow yet firm voice, "Is it strange to be sorry that he hates me now, when a very few days ago I hated him too?"

"I do not think he hates you Lizzy, a person of Mr. Darcy's firm disposition cannot switch his emotions from one extreme to the other this soon," Jane tried to placate a petulant Elizabeth with a valid argument.

"But look at the provocation Jane, what man could still love a woman who blatantly sets out to insult and antagonize him at every opportunity?" She cried.

"A man such as Mr. Darcy," replied Jane evenly.

"You give him too much credit Jane," Elizabeth smiled fondly at her good natured sister.

"Or perhaps you give him too little," returned Jane, finishing with her hair. Elizabeth got up and both sisters looked at their finished looks before turning towards their reticules.

"I fear he will be at the ball tonight." Elizabeth ventured, putting her handkerchief into her reticule and avoiding Jane's previous comment.

"Yes, maybe he will," she agreed.

"I am not ready to meet him yet Jane," Elizabeth sat heavily on the bed.

"I know. But if he is there Lizzy, then I will make sure that you do not have to," Jane took her hand and smiled reassuringly at her. Elizabeth felt calmed by her serene smile. _Dearest Jane. _They both collected their coats and bonnets and went downstairs to their waiting Uncle and Aunt.

…**..**

Lord Munroe's house was in a fashionable and expensive part of town. It was a large and beautiful if somewhat gaudy mansion. Both Jane and Elizabeth felt apprehensive while entering it. Mr. Gardiner introduced them to the host and his unassuming wife, they were a middle aged and pleasant couple. They welcomed them with warmth, thereby putting them at ease, and a footman led them to a spacious ball room. Mrs. Gardiner quickly found her husband's business associate Mr. Eldridge's wife and sister among the few people assembled and introduced her nieces to them. Miss Eldridge was a pleasant young woman of twenty-five who was quite talkative which was fine with both Jane and Elizabeth since they were not in the mood to exert much on that evening. Soon more and more guests began arriving and the room started to fill up with people as well as conversations and laughter. Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Eldridge thought it best to move to a secluded corner as they did not know anyone else and most of the guests would be from a higher circle anyway. After settling in the corner, Miss Eldridge started elaborating on the new parasol that she had gotten at a very reasonable rate. The married women ignored her and carried on a conversation of their own, Jane listened to her with polite interest whereas Elizabeth kept a silent vigil at the door.

It was after answering a question posed by her Aunt, when her eyes turned towards the door again that she first saw Mr. Darcy. Even though the ballroom was now almost full of people, his tall frame was easy to spot in the entrance of the house. He bowed to his hosts and then moved lazily towards the ballroom. Elizabeth was determining how to turn her back towards the entrance without calling it to the attention of her party and simultaneously lessen the alarming rate at which her heart was pounding when Mr. Darcy suddenly turned back as if called by someone and eagerly moved towards a small party of people that had just entered. The party consisted of four individuals, three women and one man. Elizabeth watched as Mr. Darcy greeted them with a familiarity that she had not seen in him before, it was as if they were on very cordial terms. She decided that she will watch them for a bit before turning her back, a little curiosity cannot hurt anyone now, can it? Mr. Darcy entered the ballroom with a graceful looking elderly woman on his one arm and a petite, young girl about Elizabeth's age with flaming red hair and mild green eyes on his other arm. Following them closely was a pair obviously brother and sister, both tall and graceful with auburn red hair and bright green eyes. A handsome family, she thought, as family they must be, because even though the older woman had dark hair streaked with grey here and there, the resemblance with all the three red-heads was unmistakable. After settling into a corner Mr. Darcy let go of their arms, he and the other, younger man started mingling with acquaintances, moving away from the ladies by slow degrees.

Elizabeth willed herself to turn away, but her eyes were affixed to Mr. Darcy's person. _I just want to see how he behaves in his own circle, with people of rank and riches, _she justified her stare. It was with fascinated curiosity that she watched his smile of greeting slowly turn into the haughty expression he had adopted almost constantly in Hertfordshire, as he moved down the crowd. Several society _mamas _greeted him with their young and (mostly) personable, daughters curtseying to him and the red haired man besides him, but it was obvious that he was the prime target as the shy smiles of the young ladies and the calculating ones of their mothers were mostly directed towards him. Even at a distance it was obvious to Elizabeth that he was getting more and more uncomfortable by the minute. After a particularly lengthy attack by a very determined mother, she saw Mr. Darcy beat a hasty retreat to the rest of the red-haired family. Elizabeth could not help but smile at this.

"Oh look the dancing is about to begin," commented Miss Eldridge, "not that anyone is going to ask me," she joked good-naturedly.

"I am sure someone will," Jane assured her with a smile. Just then they saw Lady Munroe being dragged towards them by two young men.

"How are you enjoying your evening?" A harassed looking Lady Munroe asked Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Eldridge by way of an opening. They both replied politely which was enough to satisfy Lady Munroe since she had other guests to attend to as well.

"These are my nephews," she pointed towards the two men, "Mr. Adam Stark and Lord Barrington." The ladies all curtseyed after she introduced them to the gentlemen.

"May I have the pleasure of this dance Miss Bennet?" the man called Mr. Adam Stark wasted no time in securing Jane's hand for the next dance, which Jane after only a little hesitation, accepted with grace.

"And may I have the honour of the same Miss Elizabeth?" asked the sandy haired man who Mrs. Munroe had introduced as Lord Barrington. Now here was a quandary Elizabeth had hoped to avoid. She was not averse to dancing, but she could see Mr. Darcy's party standing close to where the sets were forming, in fact she had just spotted him taking the gorgeous red haired woman to the first set just now, how could she dance when the fear of encountering him was so oppressive? No, she would have to say no and sit out the rest of the night.

"I apologize my Lord, but I am not of a disposition to dance tonight," she demurred politely. The gentleman looked thunderstruck for a moment, then bowed politely and stalked away. Lady Munroe heaved a sigh of relief and took herself off to her other guests while Jane was escorted by Mr. Stark to the first set. Mrs. And Miss Eldridge looked at her in awe, while her Aunt looked slightly bemused. Elizabeth felt a little odd at being the center of attention of the whole party, but soon everyone's attention was focused on the dancers. Elizabeth observed with alarm that Mr. Darcy and Jane were in the same set, that he and Jane would see each other, she doubted not. Just then she saw Jane and Mr. Darcy cross each other, he gave her a brief nod, what she did Elizabeth could not see, since the back of the ladies was turned towards their part of the room. _Oh what wretched luck, _she thought in annoyance, _I hope Jane can conceal my presence. _The dance was now ending, the couples bowed to each other and started departing in all directions. Before Jane's partner could offer her his arm, Elizabeth saw Lord Barrington very rudely dragging him away. She felt stricken for a moment, and was about to start towards poor Jane when Mr. Darcy appeared at Jane's side and bowed. Elizabeth saw with anxiety as he gestured towards his beautiful partner, obviously introducing the two women to each other, just then the red-haired man also appeared at their side and was like-wise introduced to Jane. The four of them started chatting when she noticed Jane eyeing their side of the room nervously, but then the look passed and she was all serene calm again.

Elizabeth was dying to know what was passing on in that corner of the room, when couples started re-grouping for the next set and Elizabeth's astonishment was great when she saw Mr. Darcy pairing up with Jane. What can be the meaning of this? That Mr. Darcy would stand up with a girl he advised his friend against marrying was an occourence of a most amazing kind. There was no need for him to even acknowledge her, yet he not only introduced her to his friends but also asked her to dance, she did not know what to think. She blinked and looked at them again, they were both dancing with poise, indeed they made a striking couple, both tall and graceful and richly endowed in beauty, because if Jane was uncommonly beautiful, Mr. Darcy was uncommonly handsome. The music changed a little and he twirled Jane expertly, Elizabeth felt a small twinge of jealousy. She wished she could be dancing with such a graceful partner, but then the realization that she had her chance once but wasted it on annoying him instead of taking pleasure in his skill, dampened her feelings some more.

The dance came to an end and the two red heads joined Jane and Mr. Darcy with their partners and they all talked amiably, with Jane shooting a surreptitious glance towards her every few moments, Elizabeth smiled to reassure her and saw her getting calm.

"Are you in a mood for the next dance Miss Bennet?" drawled a voice near her ear, dragging her out of her thoughts. She jumped a little to see Lord Barrington and Mr. Stark standing right in front of her.

"No, indeed my Lord, when I professed an indisposition to dance earlier, I meant it for **the whole of the evening, **and not just for one dance," she said evenly.

"I did understand you Miss Bennet, but hoped to change your mind," he smiled in a way that he must have thought to be charming but which to Elizabeth seemed conceited.

"Then I am sorry to dash your hopes, but I hope the disappointment would be short-lived," she said archly and moved towards where the rest of her party was standing a little way away. The young lord had nothing to do except move away.

"Look, Miss Bennet is getting ready for her third set," Miss Eldridge pointed and Elizabeth turned around to see that Jane was indeed, standing up in the third set, this time with Mr. Darcy's red-haired friend. Elizabeth smiled and then turned her back to the room.

"Let us go get some drinks," Miss Eldridge suggested and Elizabeth agreed because she was feeling thirsty herself. They went towards the table where drinks were arranged.

"Lizzy," Mr. Gardiner who was standing near the table called her to himself, "come I will get you drinks." She and Miss Eldridge joined him and some other gentlemen and took their drinks. Elizabeth turned a little to find Mr. Darcy standing very close to where she was, with the beautiful red-haired woman. She quickly turned away, slightly discomposed. She wanted to concentrate on what her Uncle was saying to his party but her heart was not in it, so she instead listened to what _he _was saying to that woman.

"…thinks you are heartless Ilythia," came Mr. Darcy's deep voice. _They are on first names with each other_, this came as a surprise to Elizabeth.

"What does he know about hearts, he has no heart of his own," the woman called Ilythia returned in a silky voice, "do you think so too?"

"No indeed," said Mr. Darcy in a serious tone, "how could I, when I have all the evidence to the contrary." _Is Mr. Darcy flirting? _Elizabeth felt a strong urge to turn around and take a look at his face in order to be sure.

"I like your Miss Bennet, she looks like she has a heart too," teased Mr. Darcy's companion.

"She is not _my _Miss Bennet," his tone got dry, "and you know that I do not approve of such callous teasing, so do not try to expect fire where there is not even a wisp of smoke."

"Alright alright William, can you not take a joke? Mark is right about you, you are too proper for your own good," Ilythia joked.

"I am not as uptight as most people make me out to be Ilythia and you know that, it is just that I do not like it when people take my name with some lady, it is disrespectful to her." Elizabeth felt a warmth spread through her at his response, _how honourable_, she thought.

"I know dear cousin, and I am glad that I am one of the few people, in front of whom you let your guard down," the woman Ilythia had a smile in her voice now, "but William I also know that the people who misjudge you, mostly do it because wherever you go you offend with your reserved manners. Not everyone has the heart or time to really analyze the reasons behind a person's behaviour, people find it easier to label you as proud and arrogant and be done with it."

"You are right of course, but I do try to be more sociable at times," Mr. Darcy said in a quiet voice, "I started tonight off in a pleasant mood, ready to mingle with everyone, even ask a lady or two to dance, but as soon as I was seen greeting people, the whispers of ten thousand pounds a year and largest estate in Derbyshire started following me, and my mood went downhill from there," he now sounded annoyed, "I wish there was someone who could look beyond my net worth and judge my real worth, someone who is discerning enough to look behind my haughty demeanor and take the trouble to know the real me."

"Why William, do I detect a disappointment in your tone?" Ilythia was obviously teasing him again, "Did you fall in love and the woman did not see you for who you are?"

"No in fact she saw me for exactly who I am," he corrected mildly. _Is he joking about it? _Elizabeth was shocked to see him so recovered from that day that now he could even joke about it.

"Who is she?" Ilythia asked curiously.

"No one special," his tone was dismissing, "now would you partner me for the next dance, it is a Waltz," Mr. Darcy changed the topic.

"Of course, in fact I would dance the Waltz with no one else, since you are one of the best where Waltz is concerned," her voice was getting dimmer. _They must be moving away, _thought Elizabeth.

"You …..," Mr. Darcy's sentence could not be heard for their voices slowly faded as they moved away, leaving a very curious Elizabeth behind. A million thoughts were invading her mind but she had no time to analyze them. _I will do it some other time, _she thought, _not now. _Getting bored with the gentlemen's discussion on politics, Miss Eldridge and Elizabeth decided to re-join the ladies again, but half way through to them they were stopped by a very determined Lord Barrington again, with Mr. Stark in tow, of course. Elizabeth sighed in frustration but did not stop until she had almost reached where Mrs. Gardiner was standing with Mrs. Eldridge.

"Miss Elizabeth," drawled the persistent gentleman stopping right in front of her, "the swiftness and elegance of your step is a testament, to anyone who cares to observe, of you being an excellent dancer."

"I thank you for the compliment Lord Barrington." She said in icy accents, but this answer was obviously not enough to deter him.

"The next dance is a waltz," he uttered meaningfully.

"Indeed?" she feigned surprise, even though she had already heard Mr. Darcy say the same to the lovely Ilythia, "Then surely I would have to sit this one out even if I did mean to dance, which I do not, since I am not sufficiently familiar with this particular form of dance."

"I could teach you," his persistence had now started to provoke an already tense Elizabeth.

"You presume too much," she said hotly and was about to turn when he waylaid her once again.

"Why come to a ball Miss Elizabeth, if you have no plan of indulging in the activity?" He asked wickedly. Elizabeth now had had quite enough of his insolence. With a heightened colour and flashing dark eyes, she turned back towards him.

"Why indeed?" she said in a tone much lighter than what she was feeling at that time, "tell me my lord, why did you come to this ball?"

"With the sole intention of dancing every reel and every waltz," he smiled with smugness at what he thought was a softening of her stance.

"It seems to me that your actions belie your intentions," she said with an arch of her eyebrow that left her opponent completely confused.

"How do you mean?" he asked, loosing a little of his confidence now.

"You claim to an intention of dancing every dance, yet you are wasting your time trying to convince a female, to take part in your scheme, who has no intent to do so," she replied impertinently, "you would do well my lord, to look for a partner somewhere else, for in this lifetime, you would not have **me **as one." She finished by emphasizing one particular word, curtseyed and turned around to find Jane standing with the red-haired man right behind her, with a smile on her lips. The gentleman was looking at her with something akin to wonder in his eyes. He bowed immediately while Elizabeth could barely manage to dip her head a little, her anger made it difficult to do anything else. She turned her head a little to see the two men going away and heaved a sigh of relief.

"This is Mr. Marcus Collier, Lizzy," Jane gestured towards the pleasant looking man, who could not be more than six and twenty, Elizabeth now curtseyed properly, "and this is my sister Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"How do you do Miss Elizabeth?" he asked politely.

"Much better than I did a little while ago, thank you," she replied now somewhat calmed.

"He is Mr. Darcy's cousin," Jane now explained with a meaningful look. Elizabeth merely nodded, she was anxious now to go home and put Mr. Darcy and his cousins and the whole night behind her. Mr. Collier guessed her absentmindedness and excused himself politely to join his own party. They bade each other adieus and he walked away. Jane and Elizabeth went to where the three ladies were standing a little aside.

"Aunt Madeline, would you mind terribly if we went home now, I have a terrible headache coming on and my packing for tomorrow's journey is not yet finished, and if Lord Barrington asked me to dance again, I swear I will scream," the last part was said in a whisper. Her Aunt smiled indulgently and said,

"Of course Lizzy, we will leave right away." Mrs. Gardiner's words stilled her anxiety and within the quarter of an hour, they were in the carriage and bounded towards the Gardiner home.

…**..**

Darcy took his place in the first set with Ilythia Collier, the eldest daughter of his father's sister Mrs. Isabel Collier, with a sigh of relief. For once he was happier to dance than to stand brooding in a corner since the matchmaking mamas seemed to be in an especially fierce mood tonight, making his resolve to appear pleasant at social events go steadily downward, until he knew that he looked everything Elizabeth thought he was, proud, arrogant, haughty and the list went on. If only she knew how uneasy social gatherings made him regardless of the fact that they were arranged in Hertfordshire or town. He shook his head to clear his mind of her thoughts, impossible task really, so that he could concentrate on the dance. Ilythia was skillful and pleasant to dance with, as usual, she, unlike Elizabeth Bennet, almost always stayed quiet while dancing, concentrating and enjoying the rhythm of the steps, and that made Darcy always choose her as his partner whenever they attended a ball together.

Towards the end of the dance, while moving down the set, Darcy almost lost his step at the sight of Miss Jane Bennet, but recovered quickly to nod to her which she replied with a smile. What could she be doing here and could her sister be here too, was what he wanted to know. As soon as the dance ended, he moved towards her and saw Barrington pull Stark, who was Miss Bennet's partner, rudely away. Darcy was by her side quickly, before she could feel the snub of being left alone in a ballroom.

"Miss Bennet," he bowed deeply.

"Mr. Darcy," she curtseyed and bestowed him a warm smile that he knew he did not deserve from her. _Does this mean that her sister has not yet informed her of my role in separating her from Bingley? _He wondered.

"It is a pleasure to see you again," he said sincerely and then gestured towards his partner, "Allow me to introduce to you my cousin, Miss Ilythia Collier and this is Miss Jane Bennet." Both ladies curtseyed.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Collier," Jane smiled at the older woman.

"Like wise Miss Bennet," Ilyhthia returned the smile. Just then her brother joined them.

"Mrs. Cabs almost fractured my ankle with her insistent trotting," he complained, "remind me never to dance with a married woman again as a favour to her husband." The women laughed and Darcy introduced him to Miss Bennet.

"My cousin and Miss Ilythia's twin, Mr. Marcus Collier and this is Miss Jane Bennet." Mark's mood was instantly lifted by such a vision in front of him. He stared at her as if in a dream, _much like Bingley_, thought Darcy wryly.

"Miss Bennet, excuse my brother's idiocy, he usually does bow to ladies," Ilythia teased her brother's very obvious lapse in manners.

"Oh…umm…very sorry Miss Bennet," he stuttered and bowed quickly, Miss Bennet curtseyed while trying not to smile at him.

"Miss Bennet, may I escort you to your friends?" Darcy asked politely and was a little surprised to see Jane looking uncomfortable for a moment. He quickly realized his mistake, she might think that he did not want her to stay with them, and that will not do at all if he was to gauge her feelings as to Bingley's return to Hertfordshire.

"Miss Bennet, I did not mean to imply…," but he was not allowed to finish his sentence.

"Oh no Mr. Darcy, I just cannot spot my Aunt and Uncle for the moment, otherwise I would not be bothering you with my company," she said demurely.

"It is a pleasure Miss Bennet, not a bother," he replied evenly, "Would you honour me with your company for the next dance?" He asked gallantly, surprising his cousins in the process.

"Of course Mr. Darcy," Miss Bennet smiled. Mark looked positively petulant. But not to be outdone by his older and cleverer cousin, he put forward his own suit before the dance started,

"Miss Bennet, may I request the same pleasure for the next dance?" his hopeful puppy dog expression made his sister laugh, which she hid behind a cough. Miss Bennet acquiesced, but not as contentedly as she had to Mr. Darcy. Soon the dance started, and Darcy took his place opposite Miss Bennet. He intended to use his time with her well, and conversing.

"I trust your family is well?" he ventured by way of an opening.

"Indeed they are, I thank you," she replied.

"It is a coincidence that our last meeting was also at a ball," said Darcy, as they went down the set. He saw her face fall a little, but recover quickly.

"Yes," her voice shook imperceptibly, and if Darcy was not looking for signs, he might have missed it, "at Netherfield."

"You must have been surprised at our sudden departure, Miss Bennet?" after having started, he boldly lunged forward. She blushed.

"A little," she said in a small voice as she caught his proffered hand in the dance.

"I hope you did not think us inconstant and undependable?" She looked astonished at his question and the pointed look that followed it.

"No indeed, Mr. Darcy, I could never think that of my friends," she gave him a warm smile and he felt relief wash over him, there was hope yet.

"The Bingleys intend to return to Hertfordshire as soon as they come back from their trip to Scarborough," he informed her as she took a step closer to him and then back, the look of utter surprise on her face was hard to miss, "if they did," he continued while taking her hand and twirling her around him expertly, "will the neighbourhood welcome them?" Her face was suddenly suffused with colour as she took in a sharp breath. Darcy left her to take a step back, allowing her to carry her wits about her. By the time she recovered, the dance had ended, she curtseyed and looked up to see his gaze searching hers for an answer.

"Gladly," she replied with a smile so open, Darcy just had to admit that she must be in love with Bingley.

"Thank you Miss Bennet," he looked down at her contentedly as she took his arm. The rest of the party soon joined them and all of them started talking of things he had little interest in. Darcy and Ilythia were not dancing the next reel so they moved towards the drinks table until the Waltz commenced. As always Darcy enjoyed the Waltz immensely, it was the only dance form that he really liked, even though he excelled at them all, but Waltz made him feel less exposed and a little more private than the reels. It was at the end of the Waltz that Darcy spotted Mark strolling lazily towards them with an amused expression on his face. As the dance finished, Mark approached them and together they went out to the balcony for some fresh air after depositing Ilythia back with her mother and a bored looking Irene, who had gotten engaged recently and therefore was not dancing as a show of loyalty to her fiancée.

"Where is Miss Bennet Mark?" Darcy asked after seating himself at the bench opposite his cousin. Instead of answering, Mark started to chuckle. Darcy arched an eyebrow and Mark stopped but was unable to wipe the broad smile off his face.

"About that," he said. "Well Darcy, after the dance finished I escorted the heavenly Miss Bennet back to her family, but before we could reach them I spotted Barrington harassing some poor female, or rather whom I thought was a poor female. But Darcy, the feisty creature gave him a set down that nobody around would be able to forget, let alone Barrington." Mark shook his head and chuckled again.

"About time somebody did that," Darcy said seriously and asked no more, but apparently that was enough encouragement for Mark for he launched into a full fledged account of how Lord Barrington wanted the said lady to dance with him but she kept on defying him until he decided to come on too strongly and got lashed out at.

"And then she said in a tone worthy of your Aunt, Lady Catherine, 'you would do well my lord, to look for a partner somewhere else, for in this lifetime, you would not have **me **as one.' By God Darcy, the woman was all fire." Mark ended the tale with Darcy looking on appreciatively, at his side. "But its what happened next that knocked the air off my lungs man," he went on excitedly.

"Do not tell me, she turned around?" Darcy asked sardonically, knowing Mark's penchant for taking a fantasy to every passing female.

"Indeed she did, and she was captivating. Not traditionally beautiful like our Miss Bennet, but with an unspeakable charm to her. Her eyes were ablaze with anger, and she was flushed, not just her cheeks man, _all of her _was flushed, know what I mean?" He looked at Darcy meaningfully.

"Mark," Darcy admonished, "you know I do not indulge in_ such _descriptions of ladies."

"Now do not get on your high horse Darcy, I do not, often, indulge in such discussions either, but you did not see her man, she was a sight to behold. Even an old brick like you would have cracked a little bit," he said devilishly.

"Enough with that, go on with the rest of the tale," Darcy held up his hand to stop Mark from further detailed descriptions.

"There is not much to tell after that, except that she is Miss Jane Bennet's younger sister, Miss Elizabeth Bennet." Mark told him casually, "and sadly man she took no interest whatsoever in me, I have a feeling that they will soon be leaving the ball though."

Darcy felt like the wind got knocked off from his lungs too, she was here, in this very room, breathing the same air as him. He felt a thousand things in that one moment, but the most dominant one was _I have to see her. _Before he could suggest that they go inside, however, Mark jumped up from his perch and walked towards the railing with alacrity,

"Look man, there they are, the Bennet sisters, leaving with their Aunt and Uncle." He pointed towards the right to where they were sitting. Darcy got up quickly and followed his finger and sure enough, there was an elderly couple with two women, one in blue, the other in green, one with fair hair and the other with dark, one Jane and the other Elizabeth. He stood there like a statue, willing her to turn, no matter how briefly, towards him, but she resolutely kept her back towards the house until their carriage arrived and she got completely covered by it. Darcy closed his eyes in frustration and opened them again to see the carriage moving towards them, maybe he will get a glimpse of her at last. As the carriage passed by, the lamp inside illuminated the interior showing Elizabeth with her back towards them, but Darcy felt a familiar surge of contentment as he watched her beautiful neck exposed to his hungry eyes, he also felt another familiar pang, of discontentment as the thought that, he would never be able to touch it, occoured to him.

**A/N: So I would not be able to update for a few days since I will be traveling, that is why I am leaving you guys with a longer chapter. Au revoir.**

**Next Chapter : ****Elizabeth**** goes back and Darcy moves forward**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: ****Elizabeth**** goes back and Darcy moves forward**

The carriage ride back to Longbourn was quiet as Sir William Lucas who had come to pick them up, wanted to sleep and the three girls were too occupied in their own thoughts to try to start up any conversation. Maria shook her father's arm, to wake him up, as the first signs of Meryton came into view. The carriage proceeded towards Lucas Lodge after dropping the two Bennet sisters off. Their welcome home was not as enthusiastic as they had expected. Kitty and Lydia had gone to meet Mrs. Forster and their mother to gossip with Mrs. Phillips, Mary was hard at work on the piano and Mr. Bennet deep in his books.

"Well girls, I hope you managed to break a few hearts in town," he teased his two elder daughters.

"Lizzy did," Jane joined in.

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed Papa," Elizabeth went crimson, "Jane is just jesting."

"Your justification rather implies that you are in fact guilty of what she accuses you of," Mr. Bennet smiled.

"It was just somebody who wanted to dance with her at a ball, but she declined. Breaking of hearts is rather stretching the reality by a little too much Papa." Jane could not bear her beloved sister's distress, she knew that Elizabeth must be thinking of Mr. Darcy.

"Off you go then," Mr. Bennet told them, "go and rest while you can, for there would be none to have once your mother is back."

After settling into the room, Jane and Elizabeth had shared for as long as they could remember, Jane turned towards Elizabeth who was removing her things from the traveling case.

"I am sorry Lord Barrington was so troublesome last night," she said.

"Oh Jane," Elizabeth groaned, "I thought he would never leave me alone, I was thoroughly discomposed I assure you."

"I should have come back after the first dance, but when Mr. Darcy asked me to dance so nicely, I could not say no," Jane told her.

"Oh yes Jane, I was most surprised when I saw you stand up with him," Elizabeth quickly grasped the subject she wanted most to discuss, for they had had no time to compare their views on the ball since yesterday. "How was he like? What did you two talk about?" She asked enthusiastically.

"He was very polite and attentive, and….," she hesitated for a moment before going on, "you will not believe if I told you what we talked about."

"Now you are really testing my patience dearest Jane, spill it," said Elizabeth mischievously.

"He asked me, in a roundabout way, if I would welcome Mr. Bingley if he came back," Jane said haltingly.

"He did what?" Elizabeth was incredulous to say the least, her eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets, it was too difficult to believe.

"Why do you look so surprised Lizzy," Jane was puzzled, "are not you the one to always assure me that he will come back?"

"Of course," Elizabeth realized her near slip, "I am just amazed that Mr. Darcy of all people would ask you something like this." She tried to cover her blunder up but though Jane liked to see good in people, it did not mean she could not see other things in them, and in that moment she saw Elizabeth's guilty expression.

"What are you hiding from me Lizzy?" She asked.

"Nothing Jane, so what did you reply to him?" Elizabeth tried to steer her back to the original topic, she did not want Jane to know that all the heart break of the past months could have been avoided, were it not for Mr. Darcy's officious interest in his friends concerns.

"Lizzy, tell me, is it because you think Mr. Darcy stopped him from coming back? I know you always say it." Jane gave her an encouraging smile.

"No Jane, it must have been odd for you to have such a conversation with him." Elizabeth was trying hard to dissuade her.

"Do not try to change the subject, I think you know something that you are not telling me. Did Mr. Darcy say something of this kind to you in Kent?" Jane, unknowingly had come pretty close to the actual truth. Elizabeth said nothing, she did not know what to say, so she kept on unpacking her trunk.

"Elizabeth," Jane called her in a stern voice, **"tell me."**

"I…you…look Jane, it is better that I do not. You will be hurt by it," she tried to get her to leave off as a last attempt, because she knew that if Jane persisted, she would have to tell her.

"I am already quite hurt by the fact that you hid something from me Lizzy, we do not have secrets between us," Jane's beautiful blue eyes were now brimming with tears.

"Oh Jane, please do not cry," Elizabeth dropped everything and, ran towards her and took Jane in her arms, "I am sorry I did not tell you before, but my only thought was to not let you get hurt any more than you already are, believe me Jane." She brought Jane to the window seat and they both sat down heavily on it.

"Then tell me Lizzy, and leave nothing out," Jane urged her. Elizabeth took a deep breath and started her narrative,

"On the day that Mr. Darcy proposed to me, I ran into Col. Fitzwilliam, his cousin that I told you about?" She looked at Jane questioningly and Jane nodded to imply that she remembered, Elizabeth continued, "we started conversing and somehow the topic of how Mr. Darcy takes very good care of his friends came about and the Col. told me that Mr. Darcy had recently saved a very close friend of his from an imprudent match. I, of course knew that the friend was Mr. Bingley. I then asked him if there were any objections against the lady but he did not know the particulars. We parted after a while and I went back to the parsonage." Elizabeth stopped here for a while and looked at Jane to gauge her reaction, she just sat there staring out the window, without making any noise or move. Elizabeth thought it best to finish the account and get it over with.

"The more I thought about it, the angrier I got and all my anger was naturally directed towards Mr. Darcy. So I decided not to go to tea at Rosings. You know what happened after that, Mr. Darcy came and he proposed in the worst possible way but what I did not tell you," she stopped there and took a deep breath and then proceeded, "is that the first objection that I flung at him, and justly, was that I could never marry the man who destroyed my precious sister's happiness, and Jane he did not deny it and went so far as to say that 'to Bingley I have been kinder than towards myself'', we debated this for a few seconds until I brought about the topic of Wickham." She stopped and Jane turned towards her.

"Is that all?" She asked in an eerily quite voice.

"Well, no," Elizabeth hesitated again but thought it best to reveal everything to Jane, "Mr. Darcy, in his letter, described how everything happened. At Netherfield ball, he observed, from something that Sir William said, that everyone in the town expected Mr. Bingley to propose to you soon. This was asserted again and again by Mama throughout the evening, in a way that, you know, cannot be appealing to any sensible person. He noticed all this along with the improper behaviour displayed by our two younger sisters and the embarrassing incident at the pianoforte. But all the inappropriate behaviour displayed by our family, could have been ignored, according to him. had he noticed any symptom of regard for his friend, in you." Here Jane started, but Elizabeth continued.

"For Mr. Bingley did love you. And while like his sisters, Mr. Darcy were aware of his need to marry a more illustrious family, unlike them he thought all that could be put aside if there was a real chance of happiness through mutual regard which he did not perceive in your demeanor, for his friend. Therefore when Mr. Bingley's sisters asked him to intervene and he did. Mr. Darcy told Mr. Bingley of his impressions about you and that put an end to everything as we know." She finished, saddened by the hurt look on Jane's face.

"Would you not say anything Jane," Elizabeth asked, after she did not say anything for several minutes.

"I do not know what to say Lizzy," she said dejectedly.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, indeed."

"Are you mad at Mr. Darcy?"

"No. It is not his fault that Mr. Bingley chose to listen to him."

"But Jane, it was his opinion that made Mr. Bingley waver."

"Exactly Lizzy, **Mr. Darcy's **opinion, not his own. It was Mr. Bingley I looked at and talked to, not Mr. Darcy, **he **was supposed to know my heart, not Mr. Darcy."

"Oh Jane, you cannot blame Mr. Bingley to trust a friend older and wiser than him."

"Perhaps not. Tell me Lizzy, did I really not show any symptom of a woman in love?"

"Well," she hesitated for a second, "Charlotte once pointed this out to me."

"Charlotte?" Jane looked surprised, "what did she say?"

"That you were uniformly amiable to everyone, and that a man needs more encouragement than you give Mr. Bingley to declare himself," Elizabeth finished quickly and then looked apprehensively at Jane.

"Charlotte is another reason why I do not blame Mr. Darcy for his interference," Jane said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth looked at her in confusion.

"When Charlotte accepted Mr. Collins, did you not try to move her from that decision, because you were convinced that it was a bad match?" questioned Jane calmly, "that Charlotte did not listen to a friend she trusted, where she was sure of her own happiness, only goes to show where the fault lies in the other case." Elizabeth blushed at the remembrance of criticizing Mr. Darcy for something she had also done, albeit unsuccessfully.

"You are right, Mr. Darcy was not, is not and can never be wrong," she teased and Jane smiled at last, "But what of Mr. Bingley? Are you not going to fight the case of your beloved like you fight for everyone else? Please Jane, you must make some excuse to exempt him," Elizabeth said, eyes twinkling.

"I do not blame him Lizzy, but it does hurt to know that he could not determine my feelings for him," said Jane sadly.

"So what was your answer to Mr. Darcy?" asked Elizabeth curiously.

"I said 'gladly'," Jane replied shyly and Elizabeth chuckled.

"Was he surprised by your forwardness," she teased and Jane blushed prettily.

"No indeed, he looked relieved," Jane said quickly.

"Do you think Mr. Bingley will come soon now?" Elizabeth got up and went back to her unpacking.

"I hope so," Jane also smiled and got up from her perch.

"And would you welcome him," Elizabeth's eyes twinkled with mischief, "with open arms?"

"Lizzy," Jane went beet red.

"Do not tell me you never think of being in his arms Jane?" Elizabeth was curious to know if Jane would go any redder, and she was not disappointed.

"Elizabeth Bennet, you are incorrigible," Jane looked highly scandalized, Elizabeth threw her head back and laughed. It felt good to laugh after so many days. "You have not told me your own impressions of the ball?"

"It was alright I suppose," Elizabeth took out her navy bolero and laid it out on the bed, "besides that lord."

"I was asking about Mr. Darcy," Jane eyed her carefully and got off the window seat to do her own unpacking, "Besides all your maneuverings, he did see you." Elizabeth looked up in surprise.

"He did? When? How do you know?" She asked rapidly.

"Yes. When we were leaving. I saw him standing on the terrace with Mr. Collier. He stared at you continually, even as our carriage passed them by, he just could not look away." Jane told her as she opened her trunk and started pulling things out. Elizabeth's heart started to beat faster at this revelation.

"Well the man does stare a lot," she masked her agitation with a joke.

"You are one to talk Lizzy," Jane wrinkled her nose, "the moment Mr. Darcy entered the ballroom, your eyes did not leave him for a second."

"I was just observing his manners among people of his own set," she said sheepishly.

"Were you?" Jane narrowed her eyes, "and pray, what did you see?"

"Well, his behaviour was almost identical to how he used to be here, except with his own party," Elizabeth said slowly, "though he did try to be sociable in the beginning, but the frequent attacks by the hopeful mothers of the ton's eligible women soon forced him to go back into his shell." She smiled at the memory, "it was quite entertaining to watch."

"It is good to see you making some unbiased observations where Mr. Darcy is concerned," Jane smiled, "he was really very kind to me and his cousins are very amiable people too."

"Oh yes, Mr. Collier seemed quite besotted with you," Elizabeth teased, and shut her trunk down taking her clothes to her wardrobe.

"He was no such thing Lizzy," Jane blushed.

"And what of Miss Collier, how was she like?" Elizabeth could not help being curious about the woman Mr. Darcy had danced twice with.

"Oh she was beautiful, do you not think?" Jane said remembering the gorgeous woman, "not too talkative though, I remember her brother telling me that she was very close to Mr. Darcy and they always paired up for dances at balls, and even private gatherings, because they both like to enjoy the activity and concentrate on the steps rather than chattering away."

"How boring," Elizabeth felt an odd twinge and closed her jewelry box on the dressing table with a thud.

"Jealousy does not suit you Lizzy," Jane teased as she took her own clothes to the wardrobe.

"What on Earth would I be jealous of?" Elizabeth said indignantly and went to sit on the window seat again.

"Of Miss Collier and maybe even me, because Mr. Darcy danced with us and not you," Jane wriggled her eyebrows mischievously.

"Jane," she cried and threw a cushion at her and then giggled, "Well maybe a little," she conceded a little shyly, "he does cut a rather striking figure on the dance floor."

"I knew it," Jane said triumphantly picking up the cushion from where it had fallen and coming to sit beside her sister.

"So you see Jane," Elizabeth smiled impishly, "you are not the only one who dreams of being in a certain gentleman's arms, though my dream is an innocent one compared to you as I only want to have a proficient dance partner, where as you…"

"Why you shameless girl," Jane cut her mid-sentence as she pelted her with the same cushion that Lizzy had thrown her way. The room boomed with the sound of laughter and in the midst of that laughter, Elizabeth thought that now that she was back home, everything would be fine.

**….**

Throughout the carriage ride home, Darcy felt miserable and angry at himself for feeling that way. Georgiana was staying the night at the Collier's townhouse, so he came back to an empty house, which did nothing to improve his mood. He went straight to his study, poured himself a glass of port and settled into one of the huge chairs by the fire. His scheme of keeping himself so busy that he was left with no time to think about Elizabeth came down in ashes tonight. Ever since the Colliers came to town, they had provided the much needed distraction to his mind, Mark filled up the void Bingley's absence had left and Ilythia was one of the most intelligent women of his acquaintance, the younger girls' company was also welcome, but mostly as it was enjoyable to Georgiana. But it was Izzie, his aunt whose company he cherished the most, she was a boisterous yet charming woman of some five and forty tears and loved by Darcy for many reasons.

But tonight had effectively ended Darcy's resolve to stop thinking about Elizabeth. He now acknowledged that she was at the back of his mind ever since he saw Miss Jane Bennet going down the dance. He now knew the reason why she looked uncomfortable when he asked to escort her to her family, it was because she did not want him to come across Elizabeth. Close as the two sisters were, he was sure, Miss Jane Bennet knew, if not the particulars, then at least the gist of the proposal he had made to her sister, and maybe he would not be too amiss to think that the lady herself had instructed her sister to not let on about her presence to _the puffed-up Mr. Darcy._ He took a large gulp of his drink and went back to his brooding. _But that means she must have seen me, _he sat up a little at this thought, _can that be why she decided not to dance this evening? _This thought, though not very gratifying, seemed highly probable. He knew how she loved to dance, why let go of the activity, or _come to a ball at all_, to quote Lord Barrington, _if she had no intention to dance_? She must have spotted him earlier on in the evening and then decided not to dance so she could avoid any awkward encounter with him and as soon as she was introduced to his cousin, she, with her party, left the ball because she must have known that it would be impossible to evade his notice anymore. Well, she was wrong, he would not have imposed his company on her for the world, after knowing how she truly disliked him.

He got up and started pacing around the room. He thought of the waft of lavender smell that he had noticed when he stood near the drinks table with Ilythia. Was she near him then? Could she have heard what he and Ilythia said to each other? What difference did it make, she was not to be his, _never _to be his, what difference did it make whether she avoided him or confronted him, ran from him or to him, he abruptly stopped near the windows and moved the curtain to look outside at the dark night. Oh that she would run _to_ him, he tried and failed to expel the thought of her beautiful long neck, Darcy closed his eyes and lost himself in the pleasure of how it would feel to kiss her there, slowly, lingeringly, passionately. His grip on the curtain tightened, he opened his eyes and shook his head to rid himself of such vain thoughts. He turned around and made his way to the door to go to his chambers with only one thought, to leave the past behind and move forward.

**Next Chapter : Despicable Mr. Wickham and Admirable Miss Bennet**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: ****It has been brought to my notice that my summary is a little misleading w.r.t the story, so I have made a few changes to it in order to make the two more in sync. I know that I am dragging it which is causing people to loose interest, I guess my only excuse is that I wanted everyone to know the memories that Elizabeth is going to lose (and also that I have rather too much free time on my hands ;) But I don't wana lose any of you so I have decided that I will post chapters 8-12 today, so if any of you wana skip them, you may. Tomorrow I will post Ch. 13 in which Darcy and Lizzy meet at last. Things I do for love :P**

**Chapter 8: Despicable Mr. Wickham and Admirable Miss Bennet**

Jane and Elizabeth's first week at Longbourn went more smoothly than they expected, as unfortunately for their mother and fortunately for them, there were no eligible bachelors left in Meryton to torment them. But Mrs. Bennet had not forgotten the gentleman who once lived there. No indeed, for it would be an unusual day when she would not bring up Mr. Bingley in every other conversation. But Jane did not mind, Mr. Darcy had as good as given her his word that Mr. Bingley would come back, and she had decided to trust him on this, therefore the dominance of every other discussion by his various virtues did not bother her as much as it would have, without the assurance that his friend had readily given her.

Elizabeth knew of this and likewise trusted Mr. Darcy, she had misunderstood and misjudged him for too long and now she wanted to think good of him. Because she was happy for her sister, does not mean that she was not surprised that Mr. Darcy, who had, not more than three weeks ago, told her that he was not sorry he separated Mr. Bingley and Jane, would now try to bring them together. Was it possible that after reflecting on the argument they had had at Hunsford that evening, he had decided to believe her words on Jane's partiality to Mr. Bingley? Or maybe he noticed something in her demeanor at the Munroe ball that gave him some idea of her feelings. Whatever may the reason be, it was gratifying to know that he had not disregarded her words, even though he had dismissed _her _in front of his cousin by calling her _no one special. _It showed another facet of his character that Elizabeth had not considered before, level-headedness. By heeding her opinion on her sister and Mr. Bingley's match, he must have realized his mistake in misjudging Jane's feelings, but instead of giving in to his anger and resentment for Elizabeth, he had taken a rational view of the situation and decided to let the two prematurely separated lovers test their fates once more.

That he could have let things be as they were, she doubted not, but that he chose to admit his error and was trying to correct it both humbled and pleased her. Humbled because she had been sure that he had a resentful nature and was too proud to own up to a faulty opinion, and pleased because she had been proven wrong and he was modest enough to confess that he had erred and generous enough to not let one sister's bias against himself cloud his decision to come to the aid of the other. Her opinion of Mr. Darcy was changing so swiftly, it was perplexing. It was as if he was casting a spell on her from afar, he was affecting her sentiments, without actually being present, sometimes through a letter and sometimes a kind endeavour. She could not rid her brain of him, thoughts of him had slowly but surely established an immovable hold on her mind. Most of the time she was either reading his letter or pondering on it, and the rest of the time was spent with Jane discussing the events that took place in the town.

It was thus one day, that one of the officers come to visit the Longbourn family, happened upon her in their garden, sitting on a bench, immersed in the thoughts of Mr. Darcy.

"Good Morning Miss Elizabeth," a somewhat familiar voice startled her from her reverie and she looked up to find Mr. Wickham bestowing his charming smile on her. She quickly got up from her perch, not wanting him to sit next to her.

''Good morning to you too, sir," she replied a little coldly and then asked, "pray Mr. Wickham, have you come just now, and alone?"

"I did come just now, but not alone," he looked a little taken aback by her manner and odd question, '' Denny and Chamberlain have also accompanied me hither.''

"Then we must go and join them, it would not do for me to ignore our guests,'' she looked at him pointedly and started walking without waiting for him. Wickham was now quite at a loss, as to what could her meaning be by ignoring him except that maybe she was angry at him for pursuing Miss Marry King, but she was now gone, so why was Miss Elizabeth so on edge in his company. He followed her, however, quietly inside the house, where Mrs. Bennet, and Lydia were both trying to engage the maximum attention of everyone present, while Kitty was chiming in here and there. To Elizabeth the whole scene gave rise to a new wave of mortification, she had felt the impropriety exhibited by her family before but Mr. Darcy's brutal yet true analysis had made the fact that she was not the only one who noticed such things, painfully real. _So this is how we appear to outsiders, _she mused becoming more miserable every moment. Not wanting to talk to anyone, she took a seat by Jane.

"Oh, and exactly when I thought that my poor nerves would not be able to take one moment more of the torture, dear Jane came back,'' Mrs. Bennet said in an unnecessarily loud voice, ''and Lizzy too, of course,'' this was said with a nod to Mr. Wickham and a wink to Elizabeth, to his utter amusement and her utter mortification.

"How was your trip to Kent Miss Elizabeth,'' Wickham saw this as an opportunity to start a tête-à-tête with her and jumped in quickly, Mrs. Bennet satisfied, now turned her attention towards being a source of hilarity to the other officers, ''we have been quite a dull lot without you,'' this was said in almost a whisper as he drew his chair near her.

"It was a very pleasant trip, I enjoyed myself thoroughly,'' she lied.

"And did you come across Lady Catherine de Bourgh?'' he asked curiously, ''she is quite the paragon of condescension, or so I have heard,'' he smirked in a way that Elizabeth found loathsome.

"Yes,'' she replied, ''and her daughter too, who by the way is not engaged to Mr. Darcy as per your information,'' it was now her turn to smirk.

"Indeed?'' he looked at her oddly, ''and who, may I ask, did you hear it from?"

"Col. Fitzwilliam, he along with his cousin, Mr. Darcy, was visiting there at the same time as well. Do you happen to know him?'' Elizabeth said while fixing her eyes on him to watch his reaction and he did not disappoint. He went pale for a moment and looked quite alarmed, but consummate actor that he was, recovered quickly.

''A little,'' he managed to croak out, ''he is not very much like his cousin I dare say.''

"No, but Mr. Darcy improves on closer acquaintance," she cast the final blow with relish. _Indeed, he does not, but he does have a knack of improving himself through letters and overheard conversations, _she thought.

"Does he now?" Wickham almost cried, but then composed himself to continue, "and how exactly does he improve? I dare say his pride might have been under regulation in the presence of his Aunt, but you know him for what he truly is."

"What I meant to say is that a closer acquaintance leads to a better understanding of him and also clears up the fact that what usually appears as pride is most of the time only discomfort and unease in society," Elizabeth admitted this to him as much as to herself. Wickham now looked as though his coat was strangling him.

"But you do know, I hope you have not forgotten how he treated me, how he withheld my just due from me?" he tried to soften her heart with a story she knew was the grossest of falsehoods now.

"I did hear, while in Kent, that giving sermons was not as attractive to you previously as it seems now," Elizabeth by now had heard enough of his cribbing and decided that the only way to be rid of his company was to be blunt.

"You did?" he looked deflated now, "well I did tell you some of that earlier if you remember."

"I do not," she said firmly, "I hope you will excuse me, I believe my father needs me in the study," she abruptly got up from her chair and went upstairs to her room. _What a despicable liar, oh that I ever believed him, _she thought angrily.

Once inside her room, she threw herself on her bed. How shallow Mr. Wickham now seemed compare to Mr. Darcy and the Col. They were men of the world, with broad and rational minds that were not always in pursuit of fun and females. Mr. Darcy though a man of a few words, had many opinions and a well informed mind, where as all Wickham ever did was try to inveigle himself into others minds by playing on their sympathies. He had no real conversation, just a lot of charm and lies. She felt heartily ashamed now at being duped by him, how could she allow him the recital of his woes to her on so short an acquaintance? The story that previously only she and Jane knew, now was in the knowledge of the whole of Meryton, he had successfully made Mr. Darcy the man everyone loved to hate. She felt deeply oppressed at the thought that she was no different only a short while ago, she had behaved in exactly the way that made Mr. Darcy reserved in society. It was just like he told his cousin, Ilythia, that people never took time to get to know him, all they did was pass hasty judgments, and Elizabeth felt ashamed at being one of those people.

** ….. **

It had been four days now since the Colliers left town, and though both Darcy and Georgiana were sad to see them go, the Darcy's townhouse had now fallen back into its usual tranquil routine where Darcy was trying to forget a certain young lady and Georgiana was trying to help him do that. But it was with difficulty that she sometimes stopped herself from asking questions about Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her family, especially since Mark had told her so much of what had happened at the ball. She knew that Darcy would never willingly offer up any information about her, so she decided to pump him for it. Therefore it was on a beautifully pleasant day when she decided to interrogate him as they were having tea in the small garden at the back of the house.

"I cannot wait for it to be October so that we can go to Devonshire to visit with Aunt Izzie," she offered a well thought opening.

"Me too," he said non-commitally, and kept his eyes on the newspaper.

"The Colliers are such good company too, and we can always split them between us, Ilythia and Mark for you, and Irene and Bella for me," she giggled. Darcy gave her a half smile behind the newspaper and continued reading.

"Though I do not mind having a bit of Mark to myself time and again, the way he exaggerates everything really makes me laugh," she pushed forward playfully, "you should have listened to the way he went on and on about the happenings of the Munroe ball, he put Richard to shame, who I think is quite an exemplary exaggerator himself." A mention of the Munroe ball, at last made Darcy fold his newspaper and give Georgiana his full attention, and though Darcy's full attention was a fearsome thing to stand, she managed to keep the smile plastered on.

"And what exactly did he say that amused you so much?" he raised his eyebrow at her.

"Oh, you know, this and that, mostly about the young ladiesthat he danced with and their _sisters_," now it was Georgiana's turn to arch an eyebrow, but she did not since she was not yet an expert. Darcy at last put the news paper down, picked up his teacup and drained the remaining contents.

"Georgie," he said putting down the cup, "if you want to ask me something, why not just fire away, you do not need to beat around the bush." Georgiana blushed.

"I…I have been…meaning to…ask you about the ball ever since Mark…told me that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was there with her sister," she started haltingly, "but did not want to cause you any unease."

"You do not, ask me anything," he smiled encouraging at her, "I believe it will also do me good to talk about things."

"Oh William," Georgiana was surprised that he was prepared to open up to her about Miss Elizabeth, but then they always had been close. She sat up excitedly, "I have been dieing to know how your encounter with her go. Mark told me his side of the story, of course, but I want to know what you saw and felt."

"There is not much to tell dearest," he looked a little amused at her excitement, "I did not see her at the ball, except from the back, just as she was leaving with her party, and I would not even have known it was her if Mark had not told me, indeed I was unaware of her presence at the ball."

"Oh," she felt disappointed but then perked up as another thought struck her, "but you danced with Miss Bennet, tell me about that."

"Well," he began slowly, "again, there is not much to tell, we met, I introduced her to our cousins, first me and then Mark danced with her and then she left." He shrugged his shoulders at the end.

"You can at least try to make the story a little more colourful," Georgiana pouted.

"I can but I would rather stick to what actually happened rather than embellish it into something out of one of your novels," he mocked and Georgiana looked hurt.

"All right Georgie, do not make that face," he quickly got concerned, sat up and took her hand, "ask me anything and I will answer," he smiled reassuringly at her.

"Anything?" she brightened up and Darcy nodded.

"I do have so much to ask you about," she began enthusiastically, "I will however start by asking you about Miss Elizabeth's appearance." Darcy immediately became uncomfortable, almost unconsciously images of her from throughout their acquaintance ran around his mind, making him sit silently pondering for a few minutes until Georgiana, squeezed his hand to get his attention.

"William?" She called his name questioningly.

"Yes," he answered absentmindedly and looked at her.

"I am waiting," she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, well, what do you want to know about her appearance?" He tried to compose himself in the guise of a useless question.

"Let us start with her hair," she suggested encouragingly.

"Did Mark not tell you?" Darcy mocked again and withdrew his hand to sit back.

"William," Georgiana admonished.

"All right all right," he raised his hands in surrender, making her smile, "she has dark hair."

"Like you?"

"Er no, not like me, mine are black, hers are dark, maybe the darkest brown, but in sunlight it appears to have some reddish streaks, and here's the embellishment to the tale that you so craved," he teased and Georgiana smiled at that.

"And how would you know what colour a lady's hair looked in sunlight, have you seen her without her bonnet out in the open?" Georgiana's bold question took Darcy unawares, and he coloured slightly.

"It was not my intention to," he defended himself awkwardly, "the wind blew away her bonnet and whatever she was holding her hair with came off loose too and so…"

"Her curls spilled around her face?" Georgiana cut his sentence in her eagerness and sat up forward.

"Well…er…no…actually," Darcy wished he had not let his excited sister quiz him on this, "her hair did spill but there was no curl among them."

"No curl?" She cried, "oh how vexing."

"Georgie, do be serious."

"Go on, what happened then?"

"Nothing _happened _Georgie," Darcy sighed, "Richard and I left her alone to fix her hair and went away."

"Richard? He was with you? Oh how wretched," She wailed. _My thoughts exactly, _mused Darcy.

"And her eyes? Georgiana continued with her questions.

"Dark as well, almost black," _and very fine, _he added to himself.

"With streaks of red in the sunlight?" It was Georgiana's turn to tease now and Darcy did laugh one of his few laughs after coming back from Kent.

"No indeed," he said after controlling his mirth, "I will not embellish or exaggerate here, because her eyes stay dark, even in sunlight and if they do look lighter, the difference is not much, or** I** would have noticed." His mood had visibly lightened now, as he was remembering the attributes of Elizabeth that pleased and not pained him.

"I am sure," agreed Georgiana with a twinkle in her eyes, _if just the thought of Miss Elizabeth can make him this happy, how pleasant he will become if she agrees to be his wife_, she thought, "so she has dark hair and dark eyes, is she dark like you then?"

"No," Darcy said thinking about her creamy skin in comparison to his own almost olive colouring, "She is not dark at all, in fact the dark eyes and hair accentuate her light skin."

"Is that so," said Georgiana thinking how good such a woman would look with Darcy but then she frowned as she remembered something that Mark had said, "William, Mark said that Miss Elizabeth was of my age," here she hesitated a little, "I…uh…I thought it…you know…a little odd that…you would fall…I mean like someone so much younger…uh…than you."

"Your age?" Darcy looked puzzled at that, "No I think Mark is mistaken, because Miss Elizabeth is twenty years old, I believe."

"Then why would he say that, I am sure he was not exaggerating here?" She frowned again.

"Well you see Georgie, she is very petite and has a face that looks surprisingly youthful," Darcy explained, remembering her impish but innocent expression, "which often makes her look younger that she is, younger even than you, because your height makes you look a year or two older than your years."

"Is she very short in height, compared to you then?" Georgiana asked, trying to conjure up an image of the elusive Miss Elizabeth.

"Is not everyone?" he teased, standing up to his intimidating full height.

"William," she said exasperated, "do sit down, I do not want to get a crick in my neck looking up at you."

"See what I mean," he said smugly and sat down again.

"Yes, now tell me," she gestured him to proceed.

"Yes, she is much shorter than me, but maybe she will grow an inch or two yet since she is only sixteen years old," Darcy was openly teasing her now. She laughed at his playfulness.

"Oh how romantic," she clasped her hands together and smiled dreamily. Darcy blinked.

"I beg your pardon," he said questioningly.

"Oh you know," she blushed thinking about one of her novels where the hero easily picks up the heroine in his arms, because she is so delightfully delicate, and takes her to…well that line of thinking was quiet improper, "ahem," she cleared her throat for no reason. Darcy shook his head.

"You really do need to stop reading those novels," he looked thoughtfully at her as she blushed some more.

"I will," she lied, "now tell me about Miss Jane Bennet."

"Please do not ask me to describe her," he looked alarmed. Georgie stifled her laugh with difficulty.

"Just a little," she pleaded, "please."

"Well then, she is of fair colouring, has blue eyes, not too tall, and very beautiful," he said like a parrot.

"Then why did you not fall in…I mean like her, Miss Bennet, that is?" she asked curiously.

"Miss Bennet?" He almost jumped, "what made you ask me this question?"

"Well Mark said she was more beautiful of the two and more docile," she offered.

"Yes, she is classically beautiful, but that does not count with me," he said with feeling, "I think Miss Elizabeth to be one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance, in fact I consider her more so than her sister, but that is not what compels me to her. A woman does not have to be just beautiful to make a man love her Georgie, she has to posses a certain other set of qualities as well. For me her independence of spirit, her liveliness of mind and the generosity in her temperament counts more than her hair or her eyes or her smile. You must know Georgie that a beautiful face can be rendered ugly if the spirit is tarnished and an ordinary face transformed into brilliance if the heart is pure."

"Indeed," Georgiana said with fervour, "you are correct and does Miss Elizabeth really have all these qualities that you mention?"

"She does," he said sadly, _but she possesses some other not so tempting qualities as well, like an awful temper and a wicked tongue, _he thought musing on her behaviour at Hunsford. "So you see, Miss Jane Bennet might posses a beautiful face but her personality does not attract me, much as I admire her." He said seriously.

"Tell me about her."

"Well, she is very amiable and uniformly kind to everyone. That is what made me think her indifferent to Bingley in the first place, the fact that she would be just as attentive and nice to anyone who talked to her as she was to Bingley. Just as I would be uniformly rude to everyone including Miss Elizabeth," he said dryly, "but underneath her kindness and my rudeness was hidden the same thing, love. But I could not see hers, just as Miss Elizabeth could not see mine, and thus made the awful mistake of separating her from Bingley."

"Oh William, you were just looking out for a friend," she consoled.

"Yes, my intent was good but it was based on mistaken grounds," he sighed dejectedly, "but at least it is a mistake I can try to correct."

"That you can, dear brother," she smiled at him, "is she suited to Mr. Bingley?"

"Ideally so," Darcy gave a half smile, "she is an admirable woman Georgie, always composed and graceful. In fact if Bingley marries her, her company would do you much good." Georgiana smiled at his altered opinion, but then she thought that he never thought badly of the two elder Bennet sisters, just the rest of them. She wanted to ask him about the rest of the family but he had an appointment at his club so she contented herself with the information on the two significant persons of that family.

**Next Chapter: Militia goes away and Bingley comes back**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9: Militia goes away and Bingley comes back**

With many a dinner and many a sigh did the residents of Meryton send the Militia off but the atmosphere at Longbourn house was an altogether different tale. Lydia was ecstatic since she got an invitation to go with the troops as Mrs. Forester's special friend, Kitty was devastated since she was not asked to come likewise even though she was older than Lydia, Mary was oblivious to the comings and goings in the house and interested only in the not so interesting things, Elizabeth was exasperated at the obtuseness of her father as she tried and failed miserably to convince her father not to let Lydia go, Jane was half agony half hope till Mr. Bingley came, Mrs. Bennet was just as silly as she ever was and Mr. Bennet just as sardonic.

"Lizzy stop pacing so, indeed you remind me of Mr. Darcy," Jane smiled at Elizabeth who was going back and forth in the small garden at the back of the house while Jane sat on a bench.

"Oh Jane, surely you know why I am on edge," she stopped in front of Jane, "why would not Papa listen to me when I told him that Lydia should not be allowed to go to Brighton."

"Well he is our father and therefore knows what is best for us," Jane reasoned.

"Does he?" she asked skeptically, "then, pray, why did he not check Kitty and Lydia while they were busy becoming the most accomplished flirts of Meryton?"

"Lizzy you are too severe upon our father and sisters," Jane reproved, albeit politely.

"Do you not see Jane," she sat on the bench with Jane and dropped her head in her hands in dejection, "Do you not see that their behaviour reflects on us all? If Lydia is so heedless right in front of her family, how much more boisterous do you think she will get with no one there to check her?"

"Mrs. Forester will be there Lizzy, and I do not think that any officer would try to exploit the Colonel of the regiment's houseguest," Jane tried to calm Elizabeth down.

"Except one," Elizabeth said in a quiet voice.

"Stop worrying Lizzy, you are wearing yourself out for no reason," Jane said softly, "now I am going back to the house, are you coming?"

"In a minute," Elizabeth sighed and eased into the bench, watching Jane go. She had ignored Jane's earlier mention of Mr. Darcy, but the truth of the matter was that ever since the Brighton scheme had become known, she had thought of little else other than his words on her family's improper behaviour. She could not shake the feeling that someone might take advantage of Lydia's thoughtlessness and that her father ought to have been the one worrying over this, not herself.

Oh why did Mr. Darcy had to alert her to the unfortunate lack of propriety in the behaviour of her family, she knew of it before him of course, but his notice had made her all the more conscious now. To think that they could be rejected on the basis of their family being unsuitable was a mortifying thought, indeed. But no, Mr. Darcy did not reject her because of her family, he pursued her in spite of them. She got up and started twisting her handkerchief in her hands. Why could he not pay her the common attentions that were the wont of suitors? Instead he chose to be somber and grave in her presence and then sprung the proposal on her when she least expected it. If only he had been the teasing brother in the book shop or the frank cousin of the ball room, things might have been different. Elizabeth suddenly caught herself and stopped. What was she thinking? Was she actually regretting Mr. Darcy? _Oh I need to calm down, this business of Lydia and Brighton is affecting my mind, _she thought and walked back to the house.

…**.**

Darcy had decided that it would be much better to deal with Bingley in his own house than at Bingley's, for he did not want to have the added pressure of Miss Bingley's attentions to make him more uncomfortable than he already was. _Indeed, coming clean is highly overrated, _he thought. It had been three days since the Bingleys came back and that day Bingley was coming to his house for tea. Darcy was pondering how to convince Bingley to go back to Hertfordshire without hurting their friendship when the butler announced Mr. Bingley in his study. He quickly got up to greet his friend.

"Bingley," Darcy shook his hand warmly.

"Darcy, old man," Bingley was equally warm. Darcy guided him to the high back chairs near the hearth, poured them both a glass of port and settled to have a talk.

"How was your trip?" He began.

"It was fine, not as enjoyable as the ton or Hertfordshire," Bingley's face fell a little as he uttered the last word. This was Darcy's cue to test the waters.

"Speaking of Hertfordshire," he started casually, "I recently met Miss Jane Bennet at a ball here in town."

"You what?" Bingley almost fell off the chair, his eyes becoming huge. Darcy rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache coming on at this display.

"You heard me Bingley, and I danced with her too," this was not a wise thing to say but Darcy just wanted to get it over with.

"When did all this happen?" Bingley jumped off his chair.

"Ten maybe eleven days ago," Darcy sipped his excellent port.

"Why did you not tell me before?" Another stupid question was asked by Bingley.

"Because you were not here," Darcy stressed each word.

"Oh, right," Bingley calmed a bit and sat back in his chair, "so what happened then? Did she ask about me?"

"No," replied Darcy, "she did not."

"Well," Bingley visibly deflated, "you did tell me that she was not attached to me."

"About that," Darcy cleared his throat, "have you ever considered that I might have been wrong?"

"I…uh…I…what do you mean man?" Bingley looked like a lost puppy and Darcy cursed himself for ever interfering in the whole sordid mess.

"Look Bingley," Darcy sat up a little, "you do not know but I recently met Miss Elizabeth Bennet in Kent where she was visiting Mr. and Mrs. Collins and I was staying at Lady Catherine's." He stopped here and breathed.

"Go on," Bingley urged impatiently.

"Well, she ahem told me something about Miss Bennet which led me to believe that I might have been wrong in my observations of her feelings for you." He finished rather uncomfortably.

"You mean to say that she might feel something for me?" Questioned a wide eyed Bingley.

"Yes," Darcy sighed, _well that was easy, _he thought.

"Tell me everything, how come you and Miss Elizabeth were discussing such a personal topic," _drat, _thought Darcy at Bingley's valid question.

"You know how it is with me and Miss Elizabeth," he said nonchalantly, "we are always getting into arguments of some sort, but one day our argument turned into a…err…well a ahem fight."

"She fought with you?" Bingley was all agog now.

"Yes well, yes. She did. I do not want to go into the details, nor do I remember them so well, suffice to say that she said something that made me doubt my observation, and I have been thinking ever since that maybe I was wrong to interfere and try to keep you away from Miss Bennet." He said remorsefully.

"Well," Bingley blinked, "I do not know what to say."

"Bingley, do you not feel for her the way you did when we were in Hertfordshire?" Asked Darcy.

"I do, of course I do," Bingley sat up and said with fervor, "I am just wondering what she might think of me now. I mean do you think she would welcome my return?" He asked with trepidation.

"Now that is a question I have a very good answer to," said Darcy smiling broadly and went on to narrate the conversation he had had with Miss Bennet at the Munroe ball.

"She said _gladly_?" Bingley was obviously ecstatic, "oh Darcy, she is an _angel_."

"Indeed," Darcy stopped himself with difficulty from rolling his eyes, but knew that he had to tell Bingley everything if his conscience was to have any respite, so he started again, "Bingley, I have something else to tell you as well."

"Yes man, go on," he said uninterestedly with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Miss Bennet was in town from before you and I went away. I knew it but hid it from you so that you would not try to contact her again." Darcy said guiltily.

"Oh," said Bingley and then went quiet. Darcy raised an eyebrow.

"Darcy I am not going to blame you for not telling me about her presence in town," he said dismissively, "to own the truth I would not have tried to get in touch with her unless I was sure that she returned my affection, I am not strong enough to face rejection. Why do you think I never returned to Hertfordshire?" Darcy did not say anything and so Bingley went on, "I am sorry to have missed precious time with the most wonderful woman in the world, but I am happy now that I am assured of her feelings."

"But it was my advice, my mistaken impression that kept you away from Miss Bennet," said an incredulous Darcy, amazed at Bingley's benevolence.

"But it was me who decided to accept them," Bingley argued, "and besides I know that you could never have knowingly misled me and also that even though you disapproved of the family, you would not have consciously tried to separate two people sincerely attached to each other."

"By God Bingley," Darcy cried, "I do not deserve your friendship," he said standing up and slicing a hand through his hair. Bingley laughed and said pleasantly,

"So where is the tea you promised me?"

"I will ring for it directly," Darcy said, relieved at Bingley's easy acceptance of everything.

"So what should we do now?" Bingley asked after Darcy had called for tea and settled back in his chair.

"We?" Darcy raised an eyebrow, "**we **will not do anything, **you **however, will go to Hertfordshire."

"Of course, right away," he smiled and then frowned, "I have some things to see to while in town though, but after that I am at leisure. Would you not accompany me Darcy?"

"I am afraid that would not be possible, I have already spent too much time away from Georgiana and Pemberley. I will wait till her lessons end and then we will both move to Pemberley," Darcy's accent brooked no argument and Bingley knew when to leave him off.

"Where is Miss Darcy? Caroline wanted to know if she had finished her sketch in her absence," Bingley smirked and Darcy had to smile.

"She will be down in a moment, " Darcy replied, "and I should warn you that she has a lot of questions bout Miss Bennet, I hope you are prepared to answer them."

"I am always prepared to talk about Miss Bennet, Darcy," Bingley again acquired the demented expression of a star struck lover, "she is an angel." This time Darcy did not try to stop himself and did roll his eyes.

**Next Chapter : The amiable Mr. Bingley and the annoying Miss Bingley**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: The amiable Mr. Bingley and the annoying Miss Bingley**

"Surely you do not mean that Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth teased, "a ball at Netherfield every month? I never heard of such a thing, it is not to be borne" she imitated Lady Catherine and Mr. Bingley laughed uproariously as Jane and Kitty turned around to smile at them. The four of them were walking in the grounds of Longbourn. It had almost been two weeks since Mr. Bingley returned to Netherfield, and almost just as long since he had started paying his daily visits to the Bennets. Mrs. Bennet's joy can very well be imagined, her effusions knew no bounds as did the flutterings of her heart and the tremblings of her limbs. Mr. Bennet, though happy, would have been happier still if Mrs. Bennet had left him out of her plans for Jane's upcoming wedding, even though a proposal was yet to be made. So it was that Mr. Bingley, after breakfast of course, directed his horse to Longbourn everyday, and then proposed walking out with Jane, under the chaperone of sometimes just Elizabeth and sometimes both Kitty and Elizabeth, and today was no different. Kitty and Jane walked a little ahead while he and Elizabeth followed.

"You do a jolly good imitation of Darcy's aunt Miss Elizabeth," he quipped.

"After spending so many evenings in her ladyship's condescending company, it is the least I could do," she replied smiling.

"I met her only once and found her very intimidating," he said while thrashing some bushes with his walking stick.

"Yes, but maybe not so intimidating as her nephew," Jane turned around at this and smiled knowingly at Elizabeth, she just shrugged, _I did not bring him up without any reason, it was just an appropriate response to what Mr. Bingley said, _she assured herself.

"You mean Darcy?" Mr. Bingley narrowed his eyes a little, "I would not call him intimidating, not so approachable as you and I perhaps, but not intimidating."

"But that is the impression he made in Meryton," argued Elizabeth, "he did not talk, smile , laugh or dance with any one while he was here."

"And he scared me," Kitty joined in the conversation as they reached two benches facing each other on the far side of the park.

"Well," Bingley gestured for the ladies to seat themselves before following suit, "I would not argue your description of his actions whilst here, but your interpretation of them, I must question."

"Are you telling me that he did not look down upon at least some of the Hertfordshire society in general," Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him, "because I have it on very good authority that he did."

"Whose authority?" Bingley looked a little befuddled.

"His own," replied Elizabeth triumphantly. Bingley gaped, Jane sighed and Kitty blinked idiotically.

"In the fight you had with him in Kent?" Bingley asked curiously. Jane gasped and Kitty blinked some more. It was however Elizabeth's turn to gape.

"What did he tell you about that?" _For a private man, Mr. Darcy really does babble a lot, first to his sister and now to his friend, _she thought irritably.

"Just that you two fought," here Mr. Bingley glanced side ways at Jane who immediately turned crimson, "about…err…certain…ahem…things, he did not give me any details however," he finished ruefully.

"Oh," Elizabeth sighed, relieved, "yes, Mr. Bingley, it was in that _fight _that he unraveled his real thoughts."

"But you must give some consideration to the upbringing," Mr. Bingley's statement left the three ladies in utter confusion.

"What do you mean Mr. Bingley?" Asked Jane.

"Well," Mr. Bingley moved his eyes from his "angel's" face with difficulty, "Darcy's upbringing, he was taught to be arrogant since childhood, told that he was better than most, a sense of superiority was inculcated into him from a very young age. Considering that, I would say that he has turned out rather better than most people of his set. Look at how he brought his sister up, he did not try to instill the sense of eminence in Miss Darcy that his parents had in him, and she has turned out rather well under his guardianship." This silenced Elizabeth effectively, to be sure she had never looked at his nature as a reflection of his family, as something taught and not inborn.

"Tell us about Miss Darcy," asked Kitty enthusiastically, "is she as handsome as Mr. Darcy? As proud? Does she have his deep blue eyes?"

"Kitty," Jane admonished, but inside she also wanted to know about her supposed rival, according to Miss Bingley.

"She…she is kind of…ahem…like Miss Bennet here, in colouring," Mr. Bingley blushed, "that is to say that she has fair hair, and yes she is handsome, and her eyes are blue but perhaps not as deep, as Miss Kitty called them, as his. And no, she is not proud and nor is Darcy," here he gave a stern look to Kitty who promptly got off her seat and started waving to someone in the distance.

"Look, Maria Lucas is here, I better run for we have loads to talk," and with that she quickly ran away. Elizabeth groaned, she knew that Kitty would tell Maria about her _fight _with Mr. Darcy.

"Are they close?" Jane asked, "the Darcys?"

"Yes, very. In fact I have often envied Darcy his closeness with his sister as he has my openness towards strangers," he chuckled.

"Has he now?" Elizabeth looked a little skeptical.

"Yes," Mr. Bingley remained unobservant of her doubts, "Darcy has always been uneasy with strangers, the man simply does not know how to make small talk, and so a lot of people mistake his manner for pride and arrogance." Elizabeth blushed at this, she was one of those _a lot of people._ But there can be no excuse for his abusing my relations to my face, she consoled herself.

"Indeed Mr. Bingley, the way you are making excuses for Mr. Darcy's every action, you will have me believe that he has no fault, just like Miss Bingley once did," Mr. Bingley laughed at this.

"No indeed, he has faults aplenty and I always thought that his biggest fault was that he was unaware of his faults," he said thoughtfully.

"Was?" Elizabeth looked at him questioningly.

"Yes, for ever since I came back from Scarborough, I have seen him trying to improve himself."

"How do you mean?' Jane asked.

"Well," he turned towards her with very little effort for his eyes never strayed from her for long, "he is a quiet man by nature, so that has not changed much but he now makes more of an effort in ballrooms," Mr. Bingley chuckled here, "why only the other night, at Lord Stanely's daughter's coming out ball, he danced six dances, which is a huge figure for Darcy." This should have pleased Elizabeth but she felt oddly deflated. Jane observed this and urged Mr. Bingley to go on.

"And what other improvements have you observed?"

"He is not so fastidious as he used to be in who he associates with now, he even went to a dinner at his attorney's where previously he had never deigned to go."

"Yes, he does seem like someone who would be averse to interacting with people in trade and the law," mocked Elizabeth, thinking of her uncles who belonged to these professions.

"I beg to disagree, Miss Elizabeth, why my father was from trade and I am his closest friend," Bingley said firmly. Elizabeth was flummoxed for the second time that day, but she went ahead with her objections.

"To people who are in trade and are poor then," Jane looked oddly at her, it was almost as if Elizabeth was bringing up the deficiencies in his character so Mr. Bingley could vindicate him of all those, thereby assuring her that she was right to like Mr. Darcy now.

"Well Darcy can never be accused of being anything but affable to the poor," Mr. Bingley now directed his stern look towards Elizabeth, the very one that Kitty had run from, or so he thought.

"You are right Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy is indeed a good man," her countenance suddenly lit up with a beautiful smile, "now I must go see to my correspondence, I hope you two do not mind," with that she skipped away almost like Kitty and Mr. Bingley congratulated himself on being able to have found the very _look_ to make unwanted future sisters go away and turned towards Jane with alacrity.

Elizabeth hummed lightly to herself as she made her way back to the house, her mind at ease and most of her doubts about Mr. Darcy cleared. To be sure Mr. Bingley had defended his friend most vehemently just now, and who was she to contest the authority of a close friend. She smiled and hummed some more till she reached the house.

….

"What is it William, why are you smiling so?" Georgiana asked him while they were having breakfast.

"At Bingley's letter," Darcy said continuing to smile, "its more blots than words."

"And what does he say about Miss Bennet?" she asked eagerly and took a dainty bite of her muffin.

"What does he not," Darcy said shaking his head, "he writes about nothing but her numerous virtues and then goes on to **blot** them."

"Oh well, she probably has them all then," Georgiana dimpled, "and what of her sister?"

"Which do you mean? She has four you know," he tried to evade the question but Georgiana was too fast for him.

"I saw you frown just now, he must have written something about Miss Elizabeth."

"He has," Darcy conceded, Georgiana was becoming too observant for her own good, "he writes that Miss Elizabeth attacked my various amiable qualities one day and he valiantly defended me until even she admitted that I was a good man. So you see, her opinion of me has not changed."

"How can you say that?" Georgiana raised an eyebrow.

"Why else would she persist in her negative opinion of me?" Darcy asked dully.

"Why indeed, but the question here should be why did she talk about you at all? It seems to me as if she spends an awful lot of time debating your qualities with Mr. Bingley." Georgiana eyed Darcy carefully while sipping her tea.

"What do you mean?" Darcy wiped his mouth with the napkin and frowned at his sister.

"I mean that maybe she has changed her opinion of you and is only looking to confirm it and that is where questioning your best friend about you comes into play," she smiled slyly at him, _seriously men can be so obtuse, _she mused. Darcy blinked at her looking a little bemused.

"Georgiana," he then said adding sugar to his tea, "I do admire your penchant for taking a positive view on everything, but what you just said is purely hearsay."

"Miss Bingley," announced the footman just then and both Darcys jumped.

"Good morning Georgiana, Mr. Darcy," she curtseyed regally.

"Good morning Miss Bingley," they both stood up and made their bow and curtsey.

"Oh you're at breakfast," she made a great show of ignorance and eyelash batting. Georgiana refrained from rolling her eyes albeit with great difficulty.

"We are finished here, Miss Bingley," Darcy eyed his teacup ruefully for a moment before gesturing towards the door for the ladies to move to the main parlour. Miss Bingley simpered and then swept out of the room, Georgiana and Darcy looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders and then followed her out.

"This is such a good room for summers that I shall be content to stay here for hours and hours and not get tired of it," Miss Bingley said after sitting down on the love seat and adjusting her skirts, cautiously leaving room in case Darcy wanted to sit beside her, but he, as usual, disappointed her by seating himself with Georgiana near the hearth and opposite her.

"Indeed," he said as he could not think of anything else to say in response to Miss Bingley's oft repeated comment, while Georgiana took a timely refuge behind the cover of shyness.

"Have you thought of redoing the wallpaper Mr. Darcy?" The question, like the comment was also oft repeated, and also one which Darcy was sick and tired of.

"No," was his clipped answer, Miss Bingley took the hint and changed the subject.

"Georgiana dear, have you finished my sketch? You said you wanted to improve it with some soft shading?" Her sharp eyes were fixed on the poor girl, who flinched at the question.

"Oh Miss Bingley, I am heartily ashamed of my carelessness but little Thomas, Viscount Fitzwilliam's younger son, drooled all over your precious sketch," Georgiana said morosely, Darcy hid his smile with difficulty at the word 'drool', "I'm afraid it is quite ruined."

"Oh it is nothing," Miss Bingley said with a wave of her hand, "I can sit for you again, as soon as you want, tomorrow maybe?" She looked quite pleased with herself and her question. Darcy looked at Georgiana as if to say 'now how will you get out of this one?' Georgiana looked at him distressingly and he took pity on her.

"I am afraid that would not be possible Miss Bingley," Darcy looked challengingly at her, "Georgie is busy with another project nowadays."

"Is she now?" her thin eyebrows were touching her hairline now, and making Georgiana very scared as a result.

"Yes, a painting for Miss Jane Bennet, on a commission from Bingley, " he said firmly. Miss Bingley's knuckles were very white now.

"Speaking of Miss Bennet, what do you intend to do about it," she did not like the way things were proceeding so she asked a question she knew would make Darcy uncomfortable.

"Georgie, it is time for your lessons, you had better go, and tell Mrs. Walton to send tea," Darcy told Georgiana softly and she vanished out of the room before he could blink twice.

"Why would I want to do anything about Miss Bennet?" He turned towards a smirking Miss Bingley, whose face quickly changed colour at this question.

"Why Mr. Darcy, Charles is back in Hertfordshire, who knows what Mrs. Bennet will do to ensnare him," she moved her hands in all directions to emphasize her words and gave Darcy a headache in the process.

"Miss Bingley, your brother is a grown man and even though I did interfere in his decision regarding Miss Bennet once, I will not do it again. He must take his life in his own hands and do as he pleases." Darcy said resolutely.

"But the Bennets have no money, no connections," she said exasperated.

"Bingley, I think, has enough money and connections to last both him and his wife through one lifetime."

"But the mother, and the younger girls, oh they will ruin him."

"How so? They will not be living with him, besides if he can tolerate them as relations, then all arguments are futile."

"But Mr. Darcy, Miss Bennet does not love him," she desperately lunged at the last excuse in her reticule. Darcy smiled condescendingly at her.

"That is where you are wrong Miss Bingley," he said in a tone that brooked no objection.

"So you do not mind him marrying in that family?" Miss Bingley was wholly bewildered.

"No, I do not, not that what I think matters," he said non-chalantly.

"Did you send him to Netherfield Mr. Darcy?" she asked accusingly.

"He makes his own decisions Miss Bingley, but yes, I did encourage him," he replied calmly, but inside he was seething at the insolent woman.

"What of your former objections to that family?" She asked venomously.

"All done away," it was becoming increasingly difficult for Darcy to form longer sentences.

"May I know the reason behind this sudden change of heart in you?" She asked spitefully. Darcy quickly got off his chair and said in stony accents,

"No, you may not."

"I will leave then," Miss Bingley said coldly, without moving, sure that Darcy would never let her leave like this, but Darcy had a knack for disappointing females. He quickly went to the door and said holding it open,

"Do not let me detain you , I will give your regards to Georgiana." Miss Bingley looked thunderstruck, but got up gracefully and walked towards him, curtseyed and went out with her head held high. Darcy made his way to the study after the door closed behind her, poured himself a stiff drink and went to the window to ponder on what had just happened.

_So that is how I must have looked and sounded like to Elizabeth, _he thought morosely and gulped the sparkling liquid. No wonder she hated him, how could anyone not. What madness had driven him to voice his petty objections of her relatives' status and her family's impropriety to her face? Miss Bingley seemed like his own mirror image to Darcy, and it was not a very gratifying representation. He had tried to make amends where Bingley was concerned and had cleared her misconceptions about Wickham as well, but what of his behaviour in Hertfordshire and the manner and language of his proposal and even his letter, how was that to be atoned? There was just one way to go about it, he would have to change his attitude, his opinions and even his principles. He would have to change all this because he could not change his heart, and his heart demanded that he do Elizabeth's bidding.

**Next Chapter : An Alteration and An Invitation**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: An Alteration and An Invitation**

It was July when Mr. Bingley finally puckered up the courage to ask Jane the question of a lifetime, and of course, received a positive answer. The future bride and groom's happiness is only to be imagined as both considered themselves the luckiest people in the world, with Mrs. Bennet coming a close second. Her flutterings and tremblings had speedily turned into plannings and spendings for the wedding. The bride's sisters were very excited as well, as is to be expected. Even Lydia wrote from Brighton, demanding a pre-wedding ball in which all of Mr. Bingley's eligible friends ought to be to be invited. It was thus that Mr. Bingley found the two eldest Bennet sisters with letters in their hands.

"I see that both of you have received letters today," he commented as he took a seat by Jane and kissed her hand promptly, making her blush and Elizabeth smile.

"Yes, mine is from Lydia," Jane replied, "and Lizzy's from Aunt Gardiner, we are taking turns reading them, I went first," she smiled becomingly and Mr. Bingley forgot to blink. Elizabeth cleared her throat and said,

"We had just reached the part in Lydia's letter where she demanded that you hold a pre-wedding ball full of eligible bachelors, preferably all proficient at Waltz, as it is all the rage nowadays in Brighton."

"By all means," Mr. Bingley was all affability, "but waltz," he frowned a little, "I am afraid I know nothing of the Waltz, but some of my friends know it rather well, Darcy is remarkably good at it."

"But then Mr. Darcy is good at all dance forms, I dare say," Jane said with a brief look towards her sister, "he seemed very proficient at the reel we performed to at the Munroe ball."

"He really does dance rather well for a man who claims a dislike for the activity," said Bingley a little petulantly, after all no one likes their fiancée of a week old to praise another man's dancing skills.

"But his dancing is nothing to you Mr. Bingley, to be sure," Jane was quick to guess at his jealousy and even quicker at soothing it. Mr. Bingley immediately brightened up. Elizabeth hid her laugh behind a cough.

"So you will hold a ball?" She asked, imagining dancing with Mr. Darcy and then upbraiding herself for being so silly.

"Of course," he said, "I love to dance, and if Darcy dislikes the activity, he will be welcome to his wall or window, whichever one of these he chooses," he took a jab at his absent friend with relish, as a revenge for dancing well.

"But you must convince him to dance Mr. Bingley," Elizabeth spoke before she could stop herself, "he really is a divine dancer." For a second no one spoke and Elizabeth looked horrified at what she had said, _did I actually just said this out loud? _She questioned her self.

"So he is coming?" Jane quickly came to her aid, sensing that a faux pas had been committed.

"My dear, he is standing up with me, of course he is coming," Mr. Bingley said confidently.

"Have you asked him then?"

"No, not yet, but I will do it right away," he quickly stood up, "excuse me ladies," and went towards the house to write his letter.

"A divine dancer?" Jane turned towards a crimson coloured Elizabeth, "really Lizzy?"

"Oh Jane," she cried in mortification, "I do not know what came over me, my wretched tongue has a mind all of its own."

"That was quite a turn from the usual 'oh he is so proud, oh but what about his arrogance and oh how I detest him'," Jane teased her mercilessly and Elizabeth laughed at her accurate impression of her previous opinions.

"Even though I do not appreciate you mimicking me, I dare say you do it rather well," she smiled affectionately at Jane, "now I had better read Aunt Madeline's letter and tell you what she says."

"By all means Lizzy, but do not think that this discussion on the divine dancing of Mr. Darcy is over," she warned playfully but Elizabeth just rolled her eyes and went on to read her letter.

"Oh Jane," she said in a disappointed tone after she was done reading, "there has been an alteration in their plan, the trip has to be cut short due to my Uncle's busy schedule and the illness of my Aunt's sister, we are only going to Derbyshire now, and will spend at least a week at Aunt Madeline's sister's house there."

"Is her sister alright, what has happened to her?" Jane asked concerned.

"It is nothing serious, she is in the family way and will deliver at the time of our visit," she said dully, "but my Aunt and Uncle send you and Mr. Bingley their fondest regards. Uncle has also written to Papa."

"That is very good of them," Jane smiled fondly and then asked, "Lizzy, is not the village where Aunt Madeline grew up, near Mr. Darcy's estate, Pemberly?"

"Yes, it is. Why do you ask?" Elizabeth looked at her suspiciously.

"No reason, except Aunt Madeline told me, when I was visiting there in the spring, that she intends to visit there on her trip." Elizabeth paled slightly at this.

"Does she? I am sure they will never visit if the family is within," Elizabeth assured herself more than she assured Jane.

"Do you still not like him Lizzy?" Jane asked.

"I do not know Jane," she replied quietly, "I do think about him a lot, and I also like to talk about him, sometimes I even wonder about what he is doing and if he still loves me. What do you make of this, do you think it a liking on my part?"

"It definitely is that, if not more," Jane said firmly, "the question is why, why has he suddenly become so interesting to you? Is it only because he professed his feelings for you or is there more to it?"

"There is that, of course," Elizabeth admitted with her customary frankness, "everything I feel for Mr. Darcy does stem out of the thought that he once, even if not still, loved me. But I believe he still would be a fascinating persona regardless of his feelings for me, even if I had only found out about his hand in first separating and then uniting you and Mr. Bingley, Mr. Wickham's true character and most importantly that most of his arrogance was in reality only reserve, and not his feelings for me. I think I would still have been sorry for my earlier opinion and glad that he is not such a villain, but maybe I would not have thought of him in a romantic light."

"So you do admit to liking him, no matter what the stimulus," Jane looked at her penetratingly.

"I do," Elizabeth blushed as she remembered Mr. Darcy's ardent declaration of love and ignored the harsh words that came after it, "but I am not ready to see him yet."

"Well you would have to see him at the wedding in October," Jane reminded her, "and maybe some of his divine dancing too."

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, "but October is too far away Jane dear, and who knows if he would come or not. Now you must go inside to your fiancé, or Mama would drive him to Bedlam with her suggestions about the wedding. I am sure he must have finished his letter by now." Jane nodded, picked up Lydia's letter and slowly walked away, leaving Elizabeth behind with thoughts of what the alteration in her Uncle's plan of touring the Peak District would bring for her.

**…..**

(blot) Darcy,

You must (blot)ratulate me, on my good (blot)tune, Miss Bennet has made me the(blot)iest man in the (blot). Yes, she has consented to be my (blot). The marriage is to be in Octo(blot), and I am asking you to stand up with (blot), it would be my (blot)ur. The (blot)er Bennets have requested me to hold a pre-wedding ball and I have (blot)eed to do that as soon as you (blot)ive. So hurry and bring Miss Darcy with you. The (blot) will be incomplete without you because all the Bennet girls, including my angel, agree that you (blot) rather well and Miss Elizabeth even went so (blot) as to say that you are a divine dancer.

Eagerly awaiting you,

(blot)ley

Darcy was only able to read half the letter before he collapsed into uncontrollable laughter while Georgiana watched in suspense.

"What is it William? Why are you laughing so? Who is the letter from?" She questioned rapidly as Darcy passed the letter to her.

"Please read it aloud to me, substituting the blots with appropriate words, I could not read beyond the sixth blot," he said, breathless with laughter.

"Alright," Georgiana immediately guessed that the letter must be from Mr. Bingley, she took the letter from Darcy and perused it carefully, a smile appearing on her face. "Should I read it to you then?"

"Yes," he nodded, smiling.

"Well, besides the fact that he got engaged to Miss Bennet, he writes that the wedding is in October and also that he wants you to stand up with him," she said the last part a little hesitatingly, aware that he might refuse.

"Will you stand up with him then?" She asked when he did not answer

"No," he replied, his face somber.

"Why not, Mr. Bingley is your closest friend, you cannot just skip the wedding because Miss Elizabeth will be there," she argued putting the letter on the table near Darcy.

"I can and I will," his tone brooked no argument, "I have allowed the justice of her words that day, but I have not forgotten the abhorrence behind them," he held up his hand as Georgiana opened her mouth to say something, "I know what you will say Georgie, that she probably does not dislike me anymore, be that as it may, I shall not go to Bingley's wedding. I might not be as proud as Miss Elizabeth gave me credit for, but I do have **some** pride."

"And a lot of obstinacy," she wrinkled her nose.

"Read on sister," he ignored her remark.

"There is nothing else, he has invited you to a pre-wedding ball saying that 'you must come because all the Bennets agree that you dance rather well'," she said dully, "he does not know that you are impervious to flattery of that kind."

"Indeed, I am," he remained serious, "please do not trouble yourself with my decision, it is for the best I assure you."

"For whose best William?"

"Does he not say anything else?" Darcy overlooked her question and asked his own.

"There is one small and insignificant detail, but I do not think that you want to hear it," she said hotly getting up from her chair and moved towards the door.

"Georgie," he called, exasperated, "please understand me."

"Do you know what else he writes?" She asked reaching the door, "he says that 'Miss Elizabeth thinks you are a divine dancer'," and with this she slammed the door shut behind her.

Darcy sat immovable from surprise at her words for a few seconds, then quickly grabbed the letter, his eyes roving over the words till they reached the beloved name, _Miss Elizabeth even went so (blot) as to say that you are a divine dancer._ He read it again and again and then dropped it on the table, got up and started pacing the length of his study. _Why on Earth did Bingley write such a thing_, he thought with irritation. It was with great difficulty that Darcy had come to the realization that Elizabeth could never be his, and now that he had forcibly expelled every hope of gaining her love he did not want to fall into the all too familiar web of self-created illusions that had previously led him to believe that Elizabeth was also interested in him. That one small sentence from Bingley's letter was threatening to open the still fresh wounds on his heart, and he could not let that happen. After hours of pacing and thinking, he finally found the reason behind Elizabeth's words, _she often professed opinions, which were not actually her own._

**Next Chapter : To Derbyshire**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: To Derbyshire**

The click clock of the horses' hooves had lulled Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner to sleep, but their niece sat wide awake and stared outside at the beauty of Derbyshire. It was the third week of August and the expanse of green grass specked with trees presented a particularly beautiful picture to the had traveled to Matlock and Alferton before coming to Lambton, the village her Aunt grew up in, it was only a few miles away now, an hour's journey at the most.

A sudden jump of the carriage made Elizabeth jerk, she sighed and stared out of the window like she had most of the journey. She had been glad when the Gardiners finally came to take her to this trip that they had planned for a while now. All the preparations for and talk of the wedding had made her long to have some peace, and what could be better than her Aunt and Uncle's company and the prospect of enjoyable time with them, traveling the wilds of Derbyshire. She sighed again, it was difficult for her to think of Derbyshire and not think of the man who lived in Pemberly, Mr. Darcy. She would be fooling herself if she thought that Mr. Darcy's refusal to stand up with Mr. Bingley had not disappointed her, indeed her spirits had seldom been drearier. Jane had told her about it, and also how affected Mr. Bingley was by Mr. Darcy's negative response. Mr. Darcy had not tried to sugar coat his refusal, he had plainly told his friend that he did not want to make his own wedding awkward for him and that the state of things between himself and Miss Elizabeth were such that any interaction between them might give rise to some unpleasantness. Elizabeth could not understand this, did he think her so mean as to insult him again and without provocation or was he himself so mean as to be rude to her whenever they met? In the end she decided to go with Jane's explanation that he was not ready to see her yet but telling this as plainly to Bingley might lead him to reveal the whole truth, and he probably was not ready for that either.

"Lizzy look," her Aunt's voice brought her out of her reverie, "we are almost there," she pointed toward some buildings in the distance. Her Uncle stirred at that and rubbed his eyes before looking out.

"I dare say we are," he smiled at his wife's enthusiasm.

"How beautifully picturesque all this seems," Elizabeth looked out the window excitedly. She really had enjoyed the trip so far immensely, and there was yet promise of more.

"We have made it here in good time, as soon as we freshen up, I will take you to the church, it is quite close to the inn," her Aunt looked like an excited child. Elizabeth and her Uncle smiled at each other at her eagerness.

After reaching the inn, Mrs. Gardiner kept her word and took them to the beautiful old Church as soon as they had freshened up. The country air was so beautiful, it acted like a balm for their tired bodies and both Elizabeth and her Uncle really enjoyed as her Aunt played the guide. But enthusiasm alone could not carry them and soon they got tired and returned to the inn to have supper. Since the inn was really busy at that time they had to share a table with a family that had come down from London to enjoy Derbyshire like them, the Ashdowns. They had two daughters of about Jane and Elizabeth's age, Augusta and Aurora. Miss Augusta was quite chatty and quickly began unloading her stock of gossip on them.

"And so Lady Alden is the one who started the new trend of wearing this frightfully improper night attire for women," she looked triumphantly at them after narrating a long tale on the reason behind the change, of which Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner had no idea, in the night gowns for women.

"Indeed," Mrs. Gardiner yawned and looked expressively at her husband who chose to ignore her since Mr. Ashdown and he shared a lot of common interests.

"I am sure," she now lowered her voice considerably, "that you cannot possibly know who the trendsetter is in gentlemen's nightwear?" Mrs. Ashdown gave her daughter a stern look, which she skillfully ignored, "well I shall have to tell you then, we just came back from his house today." Elizabeth started thinking of ways to end this conversation and go to her room to rest.

"Today? Do you mean he lives in Lambton?" Mrs. Gardiner looked scandalized.

"Not Lambton," she paused for dramatic effect and then said, "Pemberley, it's Mr. Darcy." Elizabeth jumped, Mrs. Gardiner stared, Mrs. Ashdown sighed and Miss Aurora giggled.

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth repeated questioningly, "I did not know he was such a fashion enthusiast."

"Do you know him?" Miss Ashdown eyed her suspiciously.

"We have met," she sad evasively, "briefly."

"Oh," Miss Ashdown looked satisfied, "so where was I? Oh yes how Mr. Darcy _inadvertently _set the fashion for gentlemen's nightwear."

"Inadvertently?" Mrs. Gardiner raised an eyebrow and Elizabeth moved forward in her chair, her former ennui disappearing quickly.

"Yes, well it is the most amusing story," replied their narrator smiling with glee.

"Oh get on with it Augusta," said Miss Aurora annoyingly, "enough of your antics, can you not see they are interested already."

"Fine," Miss Ashdown scowled at her sister and then smiled at the two bemused women, "so, everybody knows that Lady Felicity Barrington had set her cap at Mr. Darcy, the last Christmas season, soon after he came back from some place in Hertfordshire." Elizabeth's eyes widened a little at this, _my, how news fly in town, _she thought.

"She and her cousin Miss Margaret Stark followed him around wherever he went, quite despicable really," Miss Ashdown wrinkled her nose, "Lady Felicity even tried to rope in her blackguard of a brother, Lord Barrington, to help her in her pursuit of poor Mr. Darcy, but he refused, of course, being rather busy with his own agendas," here she stopped and winked at her sister, to the horror of her mother who obviously had no control over her daughter's tongue. Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth quickly exchanged a look as they had now recognized the names from the Munroe ball.

"Lady Felicity after untiringly chasing Mr. Darcy all around town, from balls to soirees, realized that he was one of the few untouchables of the ton. So she decided, with the help of Miss stark, to **compromise** him," she lowered her voice conspiratorially here. Elizabeth gasped, Mrs. Gardiner blinked, Mrs. Ashdown looked heavenward and Miss Aurora giggled. Miss Ashdown, after noticing her audience's (mostly) positive reaction continued thus,

"She decided that on the Wednesday of the week after Christmas, she and her cousin would arrive at Mr. Darcy's townhouse rather early, well five o'clock to be precise, which is, really almost midnight, and enter on the pretence of being injured or some such nonsense, rather immature do you not think?" She asked and then went on without receiving an answer as her audience was rather dumbstruck by now. "Their plan was to engage the services of Lady Felicity's maid, who was going out with Mr. Darcy's coachman (how convenient), into acquiring the right information as to the location of Mr. Darcy's **Bed chambers**," here she again paused to look at their faces, noticed nothing but shock on them, so went on quite pleased with herself.

"They had decided that once inside the house, they would both climb up to Mr. Darcy's rooms, unnoticed as the footmen are let off duty in the night, where Lady Felicity would enter and quietly lie down with Mr. Darcy, in his bed, and Miss Stark will follow after a few minutes, create a scene, because by then the servants would start to arrive, thereby forcing Mr. Darcy to marry her," Miss Ashdown stopped to take a breath and looked around to see that no one was eating anymore, even her mother and sister who had already heard the tale a thousand times. She smiled and went on,

"After discussing the plan in detail with the maid, they were now satisfied of a positive outcome. But what they had not taken into account was the Darcy coachman, yes, the maid's young man was faithful like a dog to his master and so when the maid told him of the plan, he did not react, but instead went straight to his master and revealed all. Mr. Darcy, of course was shocked (he really is kind of naive that way), so he asked his cousin Col. Fitzwilliam for help and everybody knows that the Col. is the devil. The Col. concocted a devious plan to thwart Lady Felicity's wicked little scheme, keeping in mind that Mr. Darcy would have to be kept in the dark, as being a thorough gentleman, he would never consent to a scheme to consciously insult a lady, no matter how unworthy she was. The Col. told Mr. Darcy that he will take care of the whole sordid business and that he was not to worry, so Mr. Darcy did just that. Col. Fitzwilliam, in league with Mr. Darcy's coachman and butler, fed the Barrington maid wrong information about the location of Mr. Darcy's room and the room that they thought was Mr. Darcy's was actually the guest room in which Col. Fitzwilliam's parents and Mr. Darcy's Uncle and Aunt, Lord and Lady Matlock were staying for the Christmas, since their own house was going through renovation at that time." Miss Augusta Ashdown stopped and giggled here, oh it was too good.

"Please, go on," Mrs. Gardiner, unable to take the suspense any longer urged her to get on with it. So she did.

"So, on the day that the _compromise _was to take place, both Lady Felicity and Miss Stark got up early, in the guise of going out for a walk, went straight to the Darcy residence and stood by the door, ready to feign a faint when the butler opened the door and bid them to enter without asking any questions. They were ecstatic but too excited to stop and question the Butler's behaviour, so they quickly mounted up the stairs and reached the door that they thought led to Mr. Darcy's rooms. Lady Felicity entered and closed the door behind her, after a minute or two of silence a horrible scream was heard from that room, followed by another shriller one, followed at last by some heavy cursing," Miss Ashdown halted her narration to gauge the reactions of the listeners, Mrs. Ashdown shook her head, Mrs. Gardiner sat wide eyed, Miss Elizabeth had her hand on her bosom and Miss Aurora giggled.

"Miss Stark, half mad with fear and curiosity, quickly entered the room to watch in horror as Lady Felicity sat in the bed, her hands covering her mouth, with an almost apoplectic Earl of Matlock (in his nightshirt) and a thunderstruck Lady Margery (Lord Matlock's wife) at the door of the connecting room. Before anyone could do or say anything, Col. Fitzwilliam entered (also in his nightshirt) and said, 'your game is up my lady.' Lady Felicity quickly got out of the bed and ran to her cousin, while Lady Margery advanced into the room and cried,

'What on Earth is going on here?'

'That is what I would like to know as well,' said another voice from behind Col. Fitzwilliam and when everyone turned around, it was Mr. Darcy, wearing a nightshirt that only came a few inches below his abdomen, oh do not look so shocked, he wore a pair of loose trousers underneath, which by all accounts looked very well," she said slyly, "and that is how everyone found out what Mr. Darcy wears to bed and decided to follow suit."

"Oh hang his nightwear, what happened next?" Elizabeth could not stop herself from crying out.

"Oh, nothing," said Miss Ashdown non-chalantly, "Mr. Darcy sent the two mortified women back to their homes, calmed his Aunt and Uncle down as much as he could and sorted the Col. out good and proper. It turns out that the Col. was trying to kill two birds with one stone, the other bird being his Father who he recently had a row with."

"My dear, I think we had better retire now," said Mr. Ashdown to his wife who quickly collected her daughters and hurried away before Miss Augusta could launch into some other _compromising _story.

"We should also call it a day I think," Mr. Gardiner looked questioningly at the somewhat amused and bemused expressions of his wife and niece. They got up and hurriedly walked to their rooms, it was only once they were inside the sitting room that they dissolved into uncontrollable laughter.

The next day opened with the prospect of a lot of hectic sight seeing ahead of them, but Mrs. Gardiner decided to delay the sight seeing a little in favour of renewing old acquaintances. She had several calls to make and so they all visited a lot of her old friends and gathered local gossip. So far Elizabeth was having a comfortable trip, her unease started as soon as they returned to the inn to settle for the day.

"I think we should go to Pemberley tomorrow," her Aunt's sudden suggestion took Elizabeth by such a surprise that she almost choked on her water.

"Whatever you say my dear," her Uncle said amiably while rubbing a coughing Elizabeth's back, "this part of the trip is under your command."

"Indeed, and what part of this trip was not so dear husband?" She asked playfully.

"Let me think about it my love," he winked and then went on to carve his meat. Elizabeth saw this break in the happy couple's banter to put in her bit of argument.

"Aunt Madeline, do you really think we should go to Pemberley?" She asked a little apprehensively.

"Why not Lizzy? It is a great estate by all accounts," she looked a little surprised at her unease.

"But its Mr. Darcy's home, would we not be intruding?" She argued on.

"Indeed, we would not. If Mr. Darcy did not want his home to be visited by strangers, he would not have opened part of it up for public viewing," she replied equally.

"Lizzy are you not comfortable with going there because you worry about Mr. Darcy's reaction if he found out about it?" Questioned her Uncle.

"No," she said hesitantly, "but we do have an acquaintance, and it would be awkward if he is there."

"Would you have any objection to going if he is not?" He asked again. Now Elizabeth was trapped. She did not want to go to Pemberley because of her history with Mr. Darcy, but she also did not want the Gardiners to know about it and to argue more would mean wakening unnecessary suspicions in them, so she just nodded and turned her attention back to the meal. Her Uncle promptly got up and walked towards the inn's proprietor, talked to him for a while and then came back with a smile on his face.

"The family is not expected for a couple of days yet, so it is settled, we will go to Pemberley," he said happily. looked at Elizabeth for her answer and Elizabeth gave her a huge albeit false smile in return.

**…**

"Georgiana," Darcy called his sister.

"Yes," she looked up from her embroidery, they were both sitting in the summer parlour at their town house.

"I am feeling very restless and impatient to be at Pemberley," he said eagerly, "would you mind very much if we started our journey a day or two earlier?" She looked at his dark blue eyes come alive after a long time and smiled.

"Of course not William, by all means, let us be off by tomorrow. My trunks are already almost packed."

"Brilliant," he stood up, "I shall inform Mrs. Walton directly."

"But William, Mrs. Reynolds does not know about the change in our plan, what if the house is not ready?"

"Oh it will be ready, you know how efficient Mrs. R is, I am sure she had the house ready within two days of my letter reaching her," he smiled warmly at her and then proceeded to make the necessary arrangements.

**Next Chapter : Her Mortification and His Astonishment**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: OK people, here it is. The meeting.**

**Chapter 13: At Pemberley**

Georgiana stood by the window of her room and took in the view of Pemberley's grounds from there, her eyes resting on the rose garden. She frowned, someone was there, a girl of thirteen or fourteen years old, wearing a white morning gown with a navy bolero and a straw bonnet. _Who could it be, _she mused, _maybe somebody touring the house. _Georgiana watched on, amused, as the girl saw left and right cautiously and then plucked a rose, smelled it and then touched it to her cheek before putting it into her reticule. She then traveled further along the rose beds touching the blooms lightly as she moved on, Georgiana was about to move away when she saw the girl stiffen up. Georgiana followed her line of vision to see Darcy, sans his coat, waistcoat and cravat, moving towards the rose garden at a leisurely pace, ignorant of the girl's presence. She looked back to see the girl hurrying towards the nearest oak and disappearing behind it, she turned her eyes towards her brother to find that he had now entered the garden and was admiring the rose beds.

Darcy and Georgiana had reached Pemberley a half an hour ago and while Georgiana claimed fatigue and went up to her rooms, Darcy had gotten rid of his extra clothing and was relaxing by means of roaming around. A flash of white caught her eye and she saw the girl, now moving stealthily towards the small gazebo, that their father had especially erected for Lady Anne as she loved to sit there and read for hours, as did Darcy. Georgiana smiled at the young girls antics, she obviously got scared of Darcy and did not want him to see her, but where were her parents? Just then she caught site of Darcy moving out of the garden and going towards the gazebo with a book in his hand that she had not observed earlier. _Oh no, _she thought, _the poor girl would feel wretched if she came across William now. _She remembered herself at that age, all nerves and awkwardness, especially around someone as intimidating as her brother. Georgiana decided to go down and rescue the touring girl.

She swiftly made her way down the stairs, out the door and into the vast grounds of Pemberley. She walked quickly towards the gazebo and soon spotted Darcy's broad back, standing near its stairs. She cautiously walked closer and saw the girl up close for the first time. She was definitely not a small girl of thirteen or fourteen as she had previously thought, more like her own age, sixteen. The girl's bonnet was now hanging behind her with a ribbon, exposing her dark hair against a milky, flawless skin rendered more beautiful by the stark contrast her dark lashes made. The amazing thing was that she seemed to be conversing with Darcy, albeit haltingly and with downcast eyes. Georgiana drew closer, extremely curious now, the girl at that moment looked up at her brother and she saw her dark eyes flash brilliantly as she suddenly flushed pink. Georgiana thought her breathtaking in that moment, with her upturned nose and full lips. Just then a twig snapped under her foot and all three jumped. Darcy turned around with a strange expression on his flushed countenance. _What is going on, _she wondered to herself and quickly moved to his side.

"This is my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy," Darcy said to the unknown girl, who looked at Georgiana with her large, almost black eyes, "and this," he now turned towards her and said in a voice that sounded alien to her ears, "is Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

**…**

Pemberley was like a dream to Elizabeth, from inside and out. Elizabeth had come to Mr. Darcy's house with her Aunt and Uncle and was now walking in the rose garden as the Gardiners went to the stream. She had decided to give them sometime on their own while she explored the grounds by herself to ponder things, as she had a lot to reflect on. The house keeper's words alone would need hours of contemplation. She had given Mr. Darcy a most glowing recommendation, from his being a pleasant mannered child to a considerate landlord, Mr. Darcy was perfect if Mrs. Reynolds was to be believed. And his portrait, Elizabeth surreptitiously looked around as she reached the red roses and finding herself alone plucked one, how handsome he looked in it, she smelled the rose, and his smile…she had seen that beautiful smile on his lips before, she touched the rose to her cheek and felt its softness as she had felt Mr. Darcy's smile, and then put it carefully into her reticule. She sighed and moved further in the garden until she saw someone coming her way. Elizabeth felt she could not breath as the realization of the identity of the approaching person hit her, _Mr. Darcy._

She had to get away before he found her, she could not let him see her here, it would be mortifying in the extreme. She looked around to find a large oak nearby and ran towards it to take refuge. What was he doing here, he was not to come for a few days yet. Oh why did they come, if only she had opted to stay back at the inn. She peeked at Mr. Darcy from behind the oak and after ascertaining that he had his back towards her, since he was examining the roses, she trotted off to the other side of the garden to find a place to hide, she surely could not go to her aunt and uncle now as the stream was towards the rose garden. She soon spotted a small but beautifully made gazebo, fitted up with comfortable benches, made her way to it, climbed up the few stairs and plopped down on a bench. _Oh Lord please, do not let him find me, _she closed her eyes and prayed most fervently.

"Miss Bennet?" It was Mr. Darcy's deep voice, filled with shock. Her heart stopped for a brief second before it threatened to beat out of her chest. Her eyes flew open and she saw him standing in front of her, astonishment etched on his handsome features.

"Mr. Darcy," she got up and swiftly climbed down the stairs to where he was standing. _Oh God, kill me now._

"I…uh…what…um...I had no…um…idea that you were in…ahem…the country," if the confident Mr. Darcy was stammering, Elizabeth was sure that no word would come out of her mouth, for she could not even look at him.

"Err…yes…I am," _obviously,_ she stated with difficulty, "we have been touring Derbyshire for a couple of weeks now."

"Are you here with your family?" He shifted his wait from one foot to the other and for the first time after descending the stairs of the gazebo, Elizabeth raised her eyes to him, it struck her that he was most improperly attired and looked exceedingly handsome in his minimal clothing. She felt a blush creep up her neck. _Oh no, no ,no, no, not the blush, please not the blush, it is a dead give away of my improper thoughts._

"Y-yes," she stammered a little, "with my Aunt and Uncle."

"And how is your family?" For some reason his eyes were darkening and his colour was mounting. _Is he having improper thoughts as well? _Elizabeth thought, a little alarmed.

"They are all very well, thank you," she had barely finished her sentence when they heard a twig snap, Mr. Darcy turned quickly and Elizabeth peeped behind his back. It was a girl of seventeen or eighteen years, tall and graceful, and pretty with blue eyes and fair hair. The girl quickly came forward and Mr. Darcy introduced them. She was his sister, _oh no, _Elizabeth groaned inwardly, _is there no end to my mortification, I just hope that Lady Catherine or Col. Fitzwilliam do not drop off the roof of the gazebo. _Georgiana Darcy gave her a shy smile and curtseyed, Elizabeth tried to mimic her actions but was sure that her smile was more a grimace.

"Would you like to sit under the gazebo for a while Miss Elizabeth?" Miss Darcy asked hesitantly. "The sunlight is pretty harsh right now." Elizabeth wanted to decline and run away but did not have the heart to say no to the shy girl in front of her, obviously not in the habit of issuing such invitations. She looked towards Mr. Darcy and he was back to his old habit of staring at her. She sighed and turned towards Miss Darcy.

"Of course," Elizabeth said and followed her up the steps, with Mr. Darcy coming behind her. She sat down on one bench with Miss Darcy and Mr. Darcy occupied the bench opposite them.

"I am so sorry to intrude on your privacy like that," Elizabeth thought now would be a good time to try and prove her innocence, "we had no idea that the family would be home. Indeed, I made sure that you were away before coming here." Mr. Darcy frowned and Miss Darcy blinked.

"You are not intruding Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy sighed heavily and then assured her in a tired voice.

"I thank you sir," she decided that looking at him again and blushing in front of his sister would not be a good idea, so she fixed her eyes on his chest, _also not a good idea, _and said in as calm a voice as she could muster, "When did you arrive?"

"An hour or so ago," Mr. Darcy replied.

"Oh," she was surprised, "and already both of you are out roaming, and I thought I was the most indefatigable traveler hereabouts," she said playfully, finding it difficult to stay serious for long. Miss Darcy smiled, some of her shyness melting away.

"William relaxes by exerting some more," she looked fondly at her brother who was looking uneasy at being the topic of discussion, "I only came down to rescue you."

"Rescue me?" Elizabeth was all astonishment, Mr. Darcy also looked taken aback. "From what?" Miss Darcy was now blushing profusely and eyeing the gazebo entrance as if she wanted to bolt through it.

"I…uh…I," she stammered and then blurted out, "from William."

"What?" Both Elizabeth and Darcy shouted at the same time. Miss Darcy looked positively aghast now.

"Georgie," Mr. Darcy said utterly bewildered, "did you think I was going to attack Miss Bennet?"

"No, no," the young girl cried, quickly went to her brother's side and grabbed his hand, "you did not even know she was there," her voice shook.

"Georgie," he smiled comfortingly at her and pulled her head to rest on his shoulder, enveloping her form with his arm, "you really are terrible at explaining things, are you not?" He teased to make her smile and she did smile up at him. Elizabeth was touched at this display, the two pairs of blue eyes looking fondly at each other, comforting wordlessly.

"Exactly what happened?" Mr. Darcy asked again.

"Well," she looked up to find Elizabeth's eyes focused on her with a soft smile on her lips, she felt encouraged, "I saw Miss Elizabeth from the window of my room, in the rose garden." And suddenly, Elizabeth knew what Miss Darcy had seen. _Dear God, though you ignored my plea of killing me earlier, well that is alright as I find that now is also a good time._

"Surely, you want to rest now Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth turned her flushed face towards Mr. Darcy and looked at him with beseeching eyes.

"I…err…I do?" His reply sounded more like a question and he looked so puzzled that it was really quite endearing.

"He can rest all he wants **after **I finish my tale," Miss Darcy's obviously took great comfort from Elizabeth's discomfort, her eyes were dancing with mischief, there was no sign of shyness about her anymore. Elizabeth groaned inwardly, _well this cannot be good._

"All of a sudden I saw Miss Elizabeth freeze up and make for the nearest oak to hide behind," her narrative prowess was quite at par with Miss Augusta Ashdown.

"I…I was not hiding," Elizabeth turned towards Mr. Darcy again, _do not listen to your crazy sister please, _"I just…thought…that…I saw well…something behind the tree."

"Did you now," questioned her tormentor, "pray what did you think you saw?"

"I…um…it was a…a…rabbit. Yes. A rabbit," Elizabeth was now extremely flustered and at her wits end, _a rabbit indeed_. A smile was emerging on Mr. Darcy's lips flustering her some more.

"You thought William was a rabbit?" Miss Darcy's eyes widened in mock surprise, "that is quite unfathomable, given his **size**," she finished triumphantly.

"Stop please, I beg you," Elizabeth held out her hands and Miss Darcy burst out laughing. Mr. Darcy smiled uncomprehendingly at both of them. "I surrender since you did catch me in the act."

"Now that you two understand each other perfectly, would anyone bother to enlighten me as well?" He looked from Elizabeth to Miss Darcy in mock appeal.

"I saw you coming towards the rose garden and did not want you to think…to think…well whatever it was that you were going to think on catching me prowling through your house, so I decided to hide that you would not think…not think…well suffice to say that it was useless since you found me anyways," Elizabeth finished a little incoherently.

"But why would Georgie think that you needed rescuing?" He still did not grasp the whole thing.

"Lets ask her, shall we?" Elizabeth turned towards the giggling girl with a teasing scowl that sobered Miss Darcy up.

"I just wanted to put you at ease, I thought you were a young girl touring the grounds, and William can come across as really intimidating, especially to a thirteen year old girl," Miss Darcy explained a little shyly.

"Thirteen year old?" Elizabeth looked at her in shock, "I am not thirteen year old." Darcy tried and failed miserably at hiding his chuckle.

"Indeed she is not Georgie, and you must never say this again," Mr. Darcy was obviously teasing her in the guise of admonishing his sister. This was too much for Elizabeth to bear, so she burst out in giggles too.

"Oh stop it Miss Darcy," Elizabeth said in between her laughter, "I cannot laugh anymore, my sides ache." She was desperately trying to control her mirth but the laughing spell went on and on as Darcy looked at them amused.

"I am trying," Miss Darcy said before bursting into a fresh round of giggles.

"I had better find my Aunt and Uncle now, they must be getting worried about me." Elizabeth got up after she had regained sufficient composure.

"Where are they?" Mr. Darcy also got up.

"By the stream," she replied and pointed towards the other side of the house.

"May we escort you?" He asked compellingly.

"I thank you but I can find my own way, you must be tired now," she wanted their company but did not want to impose.

"Please, Miss Bennet, it would be our pleasure," Miss Darcy said with a soft smile.

"Of course," she smiled brightly at the shy yet mischievous younger girl and they started towards the stream together. Elizabeth turned her head to look at the tall man walking beside her, he was staring straight ahead, _what must he think of me now, _she thought curiously. Does he and his sister think that she came here to purposefully seek him out? But why should what they think bother her, she had never cared for anyone's opinion before, much less Mr. Darcy's. But she had not felt this way before either, this uncertainty of feeling was new to her, she wanted to talk to him but could not bring herself to look in his eyes, she wanted him to stay near yet his nearness was making her feel flushed and uneasy, and she longed to know what he thought of her now but if his thoughts turned out to be negative, she was sure she would not be able to bear it. Elizabeth did not know why she was having these conflicting emotions, all she knew was that both Mr. Darcy and his opinion mattered to her, there was time enough to go into the **whys **of the matter later.

**…..**

Elizabeth Bennet was in his house, walking with him in the grounds right now, he gulped, it was too hard to believe. His heart had not slowed down since he had first seen her sitting on the Gazebo bench, he turned to look at her quiet form walking beside him, this has to be a dream. He could hardly recall what they had talked about, just that she had blushed for no reason as he had watched fascinated, the colour arising from under her bolero and climbing up her cheeks and he had suddenly felt hot, that she had laughed with Georgiana and he had felt elated and that…

"Um…William," Georgiana called softly from his side, breaking into his thoughts, "err…w-would it not be…ahem…better if you went inside and **changed** first?" That was the first time Darcy had realized that he was not properly dressed for visitors. _Oh God, kill me now._

"Of course," he said quickly, "I had not realized, I would just go now." But still he could not move and kept his gaze fixed on Elizabeth, what if he went and she left, _it could not be borne, _he mimicked Lady Catherine in his mind.

"Ahem," Georgiana cleared her throat noisily and for no reason. "Yes, you should," she looked pointedly at him as Elizabeth coughed (probably to hide her laugh). _What is wrong with these two women's throats, _he thought annoyed, bowed and left hastily.

As he reached his chambers and started changing his attire, with the help of his valet, he thought of her, the way she had looked with her eyes closed, her long dark lashes clashing with her porcelain skin. His surprise at seeing her here was so great, it drove every other thought from his mind, but as she came down the Gazebo steps towards him he felt the familiar fire spreading through him, all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and tell her how agonizing the thought of living without her was to him. And then his mind drifted towards her behaviour, _why was she not meeting my eyes in the beginning? _He thought. Was it dislike, but she had talked to them, laughed with them and even agreed to introduce them to her relatives, he slipped his arms into his coat, that did not seem like dislike. She did say that she would not have come if she had known he would be here, he sat heavily on the bed as his valet left the room, how could he let himself forget the circumstances of their last meeting? She thought him devoid of everything good, _well I would show her, _he thought, _I would show her my better side. _She might have come here hating him, but she would not leave with the same sentiment. So what if he could not have her, he could at least have her think good of him. Darcy checked his image in the mirror and went down determined to change Elizabeth's opinion of him.

**Next Chapter : ****Elizabeth****'s Novel Emotion and Darcy's Guilty Pleasure**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Awakening and Reawakening**

Elizabeth sighed for the hundredth time that day as she watched the inn maid pack her things. She told her where to put her hats and bonnets and then went into the sitting room to stand by the window and observe the beautiful scene in front of her, not that her mind was in a state to register anything. The past two days seemed like a pleasant dream, a dream that she did not want to wake up from, and now that dream had come to an abrupt end. They had three more days in Lambton before moving on to Mrs. Mead's, her Aunt's sister whose home was in a village ten miles from here, but a sudden change in her condition had made her request Mrs. Gardiner's presence earlier than planned and unfortunately, the guest room that Elizabeth was to have was now occupied by another relative of the Meads who came unannounced. Now since Elizabeth had nowhere to stay at, her Uncle had decided that he would go to Longbourn with her, while her Aunt will follow after ten days with her brother, as planned before.

Elizabeth was not only sorry that her Aunt and Uncle were to be separated from each other on her account, she also felt frustrated in the extreme at this turn of events for another reason, the reason being the Darcys. Elizabeth had spent the past two days entirely with Mr. and Miss Darcy, sometimes in person and other times in thoughts of them. Georgiana, for she was now on first name basis with Miss Darcy, had been a pleasant surprise. Even though she had her bouts of shyness, she was perfectly amiable and unassuming, and also, to Elizabeth's amusement, very teasing towards her brother. Her brother was another story altogether, Mr. Darcy had been everything she could have hoped for but never thought he would be, he was amiable and friendly to her relatives, if not too talkative, he also had been extremely benevolent when it came to touring his estate, providing every manner of assistance be it fishing for her Uncle or a phaeton ride for her Aunt. '_It is as if he is out to prove me wrong,' _she smiled to herself, '_and is doing a pretty good job of it too.'_

Ever since meeting him at the gazebo in Pemberley, or even before that, maybe when she saw him coming towards the rose garden or heard his house keeper's praises of him, she could not put him out of her mind, not to mention that her heart was equally insistent on accepting him within its depths. The effect he was having on her was unnerving to say the least. She could hardly look at him without blushing, her heart raced every time he took her hand to help her in or out of a carriage, and she could not stop her eyes from following him around every time she was sure he was not looking her way, and sometimes even when he was. The days were full of his company and the nights were occupied with questions. Was he still in love with her? He did not act as though he was, but when had he ever, maybe he did not know how to play the part of a lover, or maybe he just did not love her anymore. That thought was, for some reason, most distressing to her. If only he could love her again, she would not disappoint him this time. _'Aaaah,'_ she would groan in her pillow, what was wrong with her, surely a man spurned once, and so vehemently, would never even want to look at her again, just like he told Georgiana in the book shop. But if he did not want anything to do with her, why was he being so attentive to her Aunt and Uncle?

She sighed again, for the one hundred and first time that day, all these questions were futile when she was to leave as soon as her Aunt and Uncle came back from their visit to Mrs. Gardiner's friends house. She was really looking forward to meeting the Darcy's at least once more before they left, but that seemed impossible now, for they had not made any commitments with them when they left Pemberley after dinner last night. '_I should probably leave a note for Georgiana,' _she thought and was about to move towards the writing desk when the door flew open and the maid announced,

"Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy."

Elizabeth could not contain her joy at this opportunity of making her goodbyes in person and was only sorry that she was wearing her worst morning gown, _'after all it was important that she should look good on their last meeting was it not_?'

"Oh thank God you have come," she returned Mr. Darcy's bow and Georgiana's curtsey with her own, moved towards them excitedly and held out both her hands to Georgiana, her heart beating rapidly with pleasure at seeing him when she had thought she never would again. Georgiana though happy at such an enthusiastic welcome was a little surprised as well. Mr. Darcy also sensing something, arched an eyebrow.

"Well Miss Elizabeth," said Mr. Darcy with a twinkle in his eyes, he had progressed from Miss Bennet to Miss Elizabeth in the past two days, to Elizabeth's pleasure, "If I had known that our presence would cheer you up this much, we would have come with the rise of the sun."

"Mr. Darcy," she said with mock surprise, gesturing them to take seats, "are you not the soul of presumption, maybe I just meant Georgiana." '_How good he looks when he teases,' _she thought dreamily and then quickly checked herself.

"Maybe you did," he returned equally, after seating himself opposite her, "but I am in no hurry to rethink my presumption **this time." **Elizabeth coloured at this, his allusion to his previous assumptions taking her just as much by surprise as his confidence in her happy reaction to his arrival.

"But do tell Elizabeth," Georgiana said curiously, "you looked almost relieved at seeing us, is something the matter."

"There is actually," she clasped her hands tightly together, " I…we are leaving today, in an hour really…"

"What?" Georgiana cried before she could finish her sentence, "you cannot, William please tell her that she cannot," she looked helplessly at his shocked countenance.

"Why, may I ask," Mr. Darcy asked anxiously, and sat a little forward in his chair, " are you to leave earlier than planned? Mr. Gardiner gave me to understand that your departure was scheduled to take place three days from now?" Elizabeth told them of the situation and also that nothing could be done about it now. She watched him carefully as she narrated the events and observed his face become more and more impassive with every second. _'Well the man is too handsome for his own good,' _she appreciated his looks inwardly, _'he looks good even when he puts his statue face on.'_

"Oh but we came here to invite you to come and stay with me at Pemberley as William is to go to my Aunt and Uncle's in Matlock for a couple of days, did we not William?" Georgiana looked at her brother to affirm their purpose for this morning's visit.

"Indeed we did," he confirmed in a firm voice, his penetrating gaze never leaving Elizabeth's face and making it grow hot in the process, "and I am sure that I speak for Georgiana as well when I say that you would be more than welcome at Pemberley for as long as the Gardiner's business with their relatives takes, or even longer if you so wish." The last was said rather pointedly, making it difficult for Elizabeth to look away from his eyes, his deep deep eyes.

"So Elizabeth," Georgiana's eager voice made her snap out of the trance his eyes had held her in, "would you stay?"

"I…uh…I hardly know," she replied hesitatingly, "I would have to ask my Aunt and Uncle."

"But do you want to?" Asked Mr. Darcy, holding her eyes captive once again. _'Well, if you are going to ask like this Mr. Darcy,' _she smiled inwardly.

"Of course I want to," she threw him a teasing smile, "could you not presume again Mr. Darcy? _'Please presume away, sir, I assure you, you would not be far off the mark.'_

"No indeed," he said relieved and teased her back, "I would not want you to think me conceited." Elizabeth threw her head back and laughed at this. She had started to like his dry wit, indeed he hardly ever changed expression, though sometimes he did smile. Maybe with time he would become as easy with her as he was with his sister, and would smile more and laugh too.

"Would the Gardiners mind?" Georgiana looked at their banter with interest. Just then the husband and wife entered.

"Let us ask them and see," Elizabeth smiled pleasantly at Mr. Darcy and though he did not smile back, something flickered in the depth of his eyes awakening a strange new emotion in her that was too new to name but too strong to ignore.

…**.**

"Allow me," Darcy spread his broad palm for Elizabeth to take before getting into the carriage, he had deliberately removed his gloves, so he could feel her warmth, even though her gloves remained on. She smiled bewitchingly at him and placed her delicate hand in his, he folded his fingers around it tightly as if never to let go, she climbed inside the carriage and after taking her place beside Georgiana, tried to pull her hand out of his, but he was not ready to let go just yet. He saw her pupils dilate a little, with amusement before letting it go, teasing Elizabeth was something he was enjoying thoroughly and now only repented that he had not indulged in it previously.

"Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner," he bowed respectfully and climbed inside the carriage, seating himself opposite Elizabeth. Both the girls waved at the couple as the carriage drew away. Convincing the Gardiners to let their niece stay at Pemberley for the next week had proven to be extremely simple and Elizabeth's eagerness to be with them had gone a long way in easing his heart. He looked at Elizabeth and Georgiana chatting easily and a sense of contentment started to spread through him. His determination to make Elizabeth like him had quickly given way to a new kind of determination, to make her love him. All the emotions that he was trying to suppress since that fateful evening at the parsonage had resurfaced, and this re-awakening of his former feelings was making him realize how stupid he was to ever think that he could give her up, Elizabeth laughed at something Georgiana said and he closed his eyes for a moment, how naïve to think that he was not ready to see her again, _'indeed I was born to see her, to feel her, to love her.' _He opened his eyes and watched the passing scenery with a far off look in his dark blue eyes, she had been kinder to him, talking to, smiling at and laughing with him, and with Georgiana of course. It was obvious to see that her heart had softened towards him, but was she ready to give the coveted organ **to** him? She certainly seemed more relaxed in his company than before, her offending arguments had turned into playful teasing, fiery gazes into twinkling eyes and angry flushes into soft blushes. His eyes narrowed, she was blushing a lot in his company lately.

Just then a bump in the road made his knees knock against hers, he felt a jolt of awareness travel through him, Elizabeth quickly moved her leg away and blushed. _'Well I never,' _he thought, '_she is blushing again.'_ He looked at Georgiana and she was nodding off, she had always been prone to fall asleep quickly in a carriage no matter how small the distance, he turned his gaze back towards the beautiful creature in front of him and decided to make her blush some more, after all she did like outgoing gentlemen better than reserved ones. Darcy relaxed his legs, which were conveniently very long, a little and the carriage jerked again as if on cue, this time he deliberately let his leg rub fully against hers, keeping his eyes firmly on the passing scenery. He heard her shuffle and try to move away but Georgiana's gown took a lot of space on the seat and both their reticules were also laying between them, he observed her discomfort from the corner of his eye but did nothing to ease it and everything to elevate it. The next jump, though almost imperceptible brought his leg even closer to hers, a red faced Elizabeth by now was positively squirming in her seat. _'How enticing,' _he smiled inwardly. A monologue had now ensued inside his head, he closed his eyes and lost himself into the sensations of being near her.

**You should probably move your leg away,** '_but this feels so good, so perfect.' _ Feeling Elizabeth's leg against his own was a new and highly enjoyable experience for him. **You are making her uncomfortable.** _'Well she made me uncomfortable for four months, a journey of only five miles would not hurt her much.' _He pressed his leg closer and felt her jump. **She will slap you.** _'It will be worth it.' _He was satisfied. Suddenly he felt her move and when he opened his eyes she was getting up to move beside him, it was his pupils' turn to dilate. Elizabeth settled herself in the corner, sitting as far away as possible from him and definitely not touching him. This was not to be borne.

"Is anything the matter Miss Elizabeth?" he asked innocently, fixing his gaze on her beautiful, flushed countenance.

"N-no," she stammered, "I just think I shall be more comfortable here."

"And why is that, is there a problem with that seat?" He persisted, maintaining a somber façade.

"Well," her eyes narrowed slightly, "as a matter of fact there is," she folded her arms and turned towards him with a challenging expression on her face.

"And it is?" He really wanted to see if she would voice it, and she did not disappoint him.

"Your legs sir," she replied, her eyes wandering towards them briefly and then back to his face.

"My legs?" He arched an eyebrow, "I have never heard any complaints about them before."

"Well they are entirely too long," she said, now exasperated, but looking altogether too adorable.

"Are they?" He could barely stop the chuckle from escaping his throat now, "I had not noticed." '_Oh this is too good.'_

"Really Mr. Darcy…." She was about to say some more but just then the coachman took a rather rough turn towards Pemberley, the coach swerved and the next moment found Elizabeth slipping along the seat and hitting Darcy in his side. Even Darcy had not expected such a _'fortunate' _turn of events but his arm was quick to react and folded itself around her waist to stop her from falling. Too shocked to move, Elizabeth turned her face up towards Darcy and he felt like drowning. Drowning in the sensations of her soft body pressed against his, drowning in the dark shining orbs that were her eyes and drowning in the depths of his own emotion for her. Before he could lose himself completely, he quickly loosened his grip and Elizabeth went back to sit opposite him.

She did not meet his eyes for the rest of the ascent to Pemberley, nor did she finish what she was saying before the coach had turned. Darcy, a little shocked at what he had been doing and how close he had come to giving in to his hearts desires also did not try to make any attempt at conversation. _'What on Earth have I been doing_,_'_ he cursed himself now, _'a few smiles and a couple of blushes and I am taking liberties I would not dream of otherwise, or maybe, well, just dream of.' _It was too tempting an opportunity to pass up, having her so close had obviously effected his brain in a most astonishing way. He did not mean any disrespect, of course, she was the most cherished, most esteemed person in his life, he just wanted to have a bit of fun like other men his age, and his damned conscience would not even let him have that. He dared a look at her face but she kept it turned towards the other side. Does she know that I was doing it on purpose? Would she mind if she knew that I was? Should I apologize? _'Yes,' _he thought, '_I will apologize and then maintain my distance from now on, until she forgets my improper behaviour and falls in love with me.' _Falls in love with him? Darcy laughed inwardly, he really was reaching for the stars.

The carriage stopped in front of the main door, Darcy quickly jumped out and offered his hand to Elizabeth, but instead of her a yawning Georgiana took it and he handed her down. With some hesitation he again offered his hand, this time she took it,

"Mr. Darcy," he looked up to find her eyes flashing at him, he braced himself expecting to be reprimanded, "it would seem that your arms are just as long as your legs," her playful tone and teasing smile made his heart sore. _'She does not hate me for being so bold,' _he sighed with relief, handed her down and offered his arms to both Elizabeth and Georgiana.

"Are they?" He asked with his customary seriousness, "I had not noticed." Elizabeth laughed and he felt feather light all of a sudden. Georgiana, looked at them and smiled, contentedly, _'It's a good thing I pretended to be asleep,' _she thought.

**A/N: I would like to thank HiroDeath for pointing out that I'm mixing up 'there' and 'their', IAmCommonSense for doing the same in the case of 'accept' and 'expect' and YepItsMe for directing my attention towards the fact that the italicized thoughts are not prominent enough. I hope I have corrected all these mistakes and that my reviewers will not hesitate to point any more that I make in the future.**

**Next Chapter : She makes a Discovery and He makes Haste**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: She makes a Discovery and He makes Haste**

Elizabeth woke up the next day to her new surroundings. The guest room was next to Georgiana's room in the family wing on the second floor. It was a beautiful room with walls lined with the lightest of lemony yellow wallpaper with an oriental pattern on it. She sat up and looked towards the large windows, made invisible to her eyes due to the silken drapes covering them. She yawned and stretched before getting off the bed, put her dainty little feet in her slippers and walked towards the windows to slide away the curtains. Outside was the most breathtaking view she had ever beheld, Pemberley's vast grounds stretched before her, lined with hedgerows and peppered with trees that were allowed to grow naturally, providing shade to anyone out for a walk in the sun. She sighed and walked towards the dressing room, slowly fingering the intricately carved wood of the comfortable bed, the room was a proof of the owner's taste. She was about to enter the dressing room when she heard a soft knock on the door. A maid was come to assist her with her toillete.

As she stepped into her stockings, Elizabeth's mind went to yesterday morning's carriage ride and Mr. Darcy's legs. Elizabeth blushed. The carriage ride from Lambton to Pemberley was awkward to say the least with Mr. Darcy's long legs bumping into hers again and again, at one point it even seemed as though he was deliberately pressing his calf along hers, but she was obviously mistaken, she frowned. The most unforgettable moment however was when her body crashed against his as the carriage swerved, he had quickly put his arm around her waist, to stop her from falling, of course, but as she had looked up at him her heart had pounded with a force unknown to her previously. Mr. Darcy had looked at her in a way that no one had ever looked at her before, it was as though he was drinking her in, his gaze had traveled over her features as if trying to memorize what he saw, and she had barely breathed as all the blood in her body had run to her face when his stormy eyes had dropped to her lips. She had almost felt him lowering his head but then he had quickly retrieved his arm and she had gone back to her seat.

"Your hair is done ma'am," said the maid, pulling Elizabeth out of her reverie. She thanked her and asked her to lead her to where the family had their breakfast, all the while willing her heart to slow down and her cheeks to cool down. Elizabeth stepped out of the room behind the maid into the corridor. It was laid with a cream wallpaper that gave it a light and open look, highlighted with the wood figurines occupying their expensive metal stands, interspersed with paintings and portraits. It was a magnificent house, decorated with taste and elegance. She climbed down the stairs and the maid led her into a small dinning parlour where Georgiana was already seated but not yet eating.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," she greeted with a shy smile, not used to playing hostess.

"Good morning," Elizabeth gave her a warm smile, just like she felt.

"Let us get some breakfast," Georgiana suggested and both of them went to the side board to get whatever they wanted and came back to their seats.

"I trust you slept well?" The hostess asked buttering her muffin.

"Very well, I thank you," Elizabeth replied and nodded to the maid who was waiting to pour milk in her tea. "This is a nice cozy room you have. Is it a breakfast parlour?"

"Yes, but William and I, have all our meals here since the dinning room is too large and grand for just two people."

"So Mr. Darcy had this room made especially for this purpose?"

"Oh no, it was my mother's idea, I am told. For it was just her and Papa, and then William too of course. She found it too formal to have her meals in the dinning parlour, called it 'stuffy' she did," Georgiana giggled.

"Your mother was a beautiful woman," Elizabeth smiled and then explained, "I saw her portraits in the portrait gallery."

"Yes, yes she was. I of course do not know first hand as she died when I was only a year old." Elizabeth looked for signs of sadness on the face of the young woman in front of her but found none.

"Do you miss her?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly while sipping her tea.

"No," Georgiana smiled at her reassuringly and wiped her mouth delicately with her napkin, "I do not know her of my own knowledge and Papa and William never talked about her, well William sometimes does but Papa never did, it was painful for him, he loved her deeply."

"Was it difficult for you to grow up with two such reserve men and no woman around?" Elizabeth pushed her cup away and placed her hand on Georgiana's.

"Maybe," a far off look came into her eyes as she stared at her tea, "but William made it easy for me, whenever he could." She turned her hand and returned Elizabeth's hold. "He was not always so reserved, indeed he has never been so with me. My earliest memories are those of him tickling me until I could not laugh anymore, running ahead as he chased me around and my fondest, looking for candy that he would hide in my room only because he knew that I loved looking for it more than eating it," here she wiped a forlorn tear from her eyes.

"I am sorry, I made you cry, " Elizabeth said, squeezing her hand.

"You did not," Georgiana smiled reassuringly, "After my mother's death, Papa kept a nanny and later on a governess around but whenever William came home for vacations, Papa made him take care of me, he wanted to instill a strong sense responsibility in him. You have to understand that he was only thirteen years old when mama died and boys his age like to stay out in pursuit of mischief and sport, but he stayed cooped up inside with me." Georgiana stopped here and breathed heavily.

"Did he resent that?" She asked.

"No," cried Georgiana, "he loves me too much to begrudge me anything, let alone some time. No, he did it willingly and was very good at it as well. He did get tired of it all at times though, but Papa was too strict with him. My father wanted him to take care of me just like he used to take care of my Aunt Izzie when they were young. Once Richard was down for the holidays and he urged William to swim in the lake with him, William declined for as long as he could but Richard can be very persistent, and William loves to swim, so he relented, told nanny to take care of me for an hour and went to the stream with Richard. I was four years old then and was prone to wandering around, so I crept out of the nursery and was slyly climbing down the long staircase when I tripped and fell." Elizabeth's hand flew up to her mouth in horror.

"It was nothing too horrible," Georgiana was quick to assure her, "but Papa gave William a very tough time about it." She said sadly. "William always took care of me, but after that day he became fiercely protective, something in him changed, it was as if he could never be carefree again. And just when he was getting back to normal, becoming cheerful again, Papa died and he had to take full responsibility for me, which I paid back by planning to elope with Mr. Wickham," her voice broke at the end. Elizabeth squeezed her hand as an act of comfort, she was not surprised that Georgiana knew that Mr. Darcy had told her about the occourings of Ramsgate.

"Do not distress yourself Georgiana, your brother loves you and that is what should count," Elizabeth felt deeply for the young boy and later man that Mr. Darcy was, _'what a tough time he has had,' _she thought as Georgiana got up and suggested that they go to the library.

Elizabeth stood in the vast library of Pemberley mesmerized. The number of books would have been immaterial if the stock consisted of inferior tomes, but as it was the collection was, if anything, far superior than any she had ever beheld. The poetry section alone featured every poet in every language.

She turned around to see Georgiana's pained countenance, so she made her way to her, took her by the arm and slowly guided her to the couch.

"I know he has hurt you," Georgiana took her by surprise, Elizabeth averted her eyes, "he told me about his proposal but I want you to know that he is a good person who has had to deal with a lot of tough times in his life and all of that has shaped up his personality."

"Georgiana, " Elizabeth again took her hand, "I was hurt by what he said that day, but I am not anymore."

"Truly?" Georgiana looked confused, "he said some very unkind things, but he regrets it all deeply."

"He did," Elizabeth agreed, "but I have grown past all that, I…I…," she faltered a little but then carried on, "I understand his motivations better now, indeed he was not trying purposefully to hurt me, he only wanted to let me know the strength of his feelings."

"So you do not hate him anymore?" She asked sitting up a little, her blue eyes hopeful.

"I never did," Elizabeth smiled, "now let us have that tour you promised me." She got up and pulled Georgiana with her.

"I am so glad you are come Elizabeth," Georgiana said happily moving towards the door.

"Me too," she replied grinning and followed her. Elizabeth realized that she really was happy to be there and her conversation with Georgiana had helped her to understand Mr. Darcy's character better and discover yet another quality in him, his loyalty to and generosity for the ones he loved. _'To be loved by such a man must be something,'_ she thought, there was a time that she had his love but was too blind to realize its worth, she wondered whether she would ever have it again.

…**..**

Darcy felt jaded and restless at the ball his Aunt Lady Matlock had specifically invited him to, to choose a wife from her various acquaintance present, not knowing that the only woman he could ever see himself spending a lifetime with was already at his home and the thought of not being there with her was giving him a headache.

"Darcy, do not be such a wallflower," Viscount Henry Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder, "dance man, it is a ball." Darcy winced, _'why would anyone not leave him alone.'_

"You know of my aversion to dancing Henry, do not force me. Your parents have already tried."

"Look here man," the Viscount persisted, "Miss Morton is a fine specimen if there ever was one and Mr. Hartwell's niece is loaded like hell."

"It is no use Henry, I am determined, you cannot convince me even if you are miraculously able to produce the famous Mona Lisa," Darcy mocked.

"Suit yourself man," the Viscount relented, "have a drink then." Darcy looked at the swirling couples about him and saw his Aunt approaching, he felt his headache coming on with full force.

"Make it a strong one," he replied. To Darcy's displeasure, the ball went on till the wee hours of the morning. Try as he might, his Aunt did not let him off until much later even than that and to top it all he had to stay on and listen to his Uncle's admonishments on being a bachelor still. At last when he was able to get away, he was in no position to travel back immediately so he decided to rest for a few hours and then set out.

…**..**

Galloping at full speed, Darcy felt exhilarated as he drew nearer to Pemberley, for the first time in his life he was not happy at the prospect of reaching his beloved home but only that of reaching his beloved. Will she be happy to see me back sooner than expected, for he was not sure he would be able to get away before tomorrow but the urge to be near Elizabeth was dictating his every move now. How could he resist when the temptation to see her in his house was this strong, after all he had hoped to be married to her by now. Darcy sighed as he took a turn, the moment he observed that she had forgiven him for his callous behaviour, it seemed as though someone had wiped the slate of his memory clean of that horrible evening at Hunsford Parsonage. He did not want to think of anything related to Elizabeth that gave him pain, that could be dealt with once she was his, oh how he would make amends for every hurtful word that he had directed towards her, he would love her so much, she would forget he ever was such a rogue, but right now he only wanted to think about how to make her his.

He urged Hermes to go faster as his mind went to a subject that was weighing on him heavily since yesterday, Elizabeth's eyes, guileless and trusting as they looked up at him from under his arm in the carriage. He could not look at his actions from the previous morning with satisfaction. If he was ever to win her, honesty would be his approach and so he decided to apologize at the first possible opportunity.

Soon he saw Pemberley's façade in the late evening's fading light. _'I wonder what Elizabeth and Georgiana must be doing?' _He thought, _'they could not possibly have missed me with each other to keep company,' _he smiled a little wistfully. At the door he jumped off Hermes and handed the reigns to the stable boy before entering the house. No sounds were coming from the music room so he assumed that the ladies must be upstairs getting ready for the dinner. He took two steps at a time to reach his chambers on the third floor, his valet following behind, Darcy entered and allowed him to take his traveling coat off and help him wash the travel grime off his face. There was no time to lose so he quickly changed into his evening clothes and dismissed the valet. There was still time till the dinner gong sounded so Darcy went out to the balcony to watch the sun set and dream of Elizabeth when he felt a presence on his left side, he turned around and was shocked speechless. Lying asleep on the balcony bench was Elizabeth Bennet in all her childlike innocence. Darcy groaned and looked heavenward, _'oh Dear God, how do you expect me to be a gentleman when she lies there in such an alluring pose, appealing to my very being, goading it to act.'_

**Next Chapter : Elizabeth falling deeper and Darcy feeling deeper**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16: Elizabeth is falling deeper and Darcy is feeling deeper**

"So this was your mother's room?" Elizabeth asked taking in the room's beautiful green interior and classic walnut furniture.

"Yes," Georgiana replied, "William did not change it when he moved into the adjoining room after Papa died." Here she blushed a little, "he said his future wife should decorate it as she pleased."

"Oh," for some reason, Elizabeth also found herself blushing, "that was very thoughtful of him."

"Come," Georgiana smiled at her flushed countenance, "let me show you the balcony, it has the most beautiful view." They crossed onto the balcony through the beautiful oak and glass door.

"I have never seen anything so splendid," Elizabeth cried, quickly stepping towards the railing and eyeing the front lawns of Pemberley with wonder.

"Mrs. Reynolds tells me that my parents always had their evening tea here in summers," Georgiana told her enthusiastically, "I wish William would get married so he could do the same with his wife," she eyed Elizabeth hopefully.

"But what if his wife does not want it?" Elizabeth said impishly.

"Do you not?" Cried Georgiana, an incredulous note in her voice.

"Georgiana!" Elizabeth admonished, going red and Georgiana giggled.

"I wish William would come today," she said.

"Will he not?" Asked Elizabeth, disappointed.

"I am afraid not," she shook her head. "Do you know why my brother had to go to Matlock in such a hurry?"

"No," Elizabeth said curiously, "but do tell, is it some deep dark secret?"

"Rather a shallow and light one," Georgiana chuckled. "My Aunt, Lady Margery, arranged a ball for the express purpose of showing off some eligible bacheloretts, only for William's advantage."

"Indeed," Elizabeth's eyes first widened and then twinkled, "your Aunt cannot know your brother really well then, for I suppose that Mr. Darcy appears at a disadvantage at balls, especially the ones given specifically for his advantage."

"This is true," Georgiana grinned, "he is rather awkward in social gatherings, not that I have seen him at many. I am not out yet, you know."

"Yes, I do," she smiled thoughtfully, "We ought to get going, do you not think?"

"Oh stay, I shall order for tea here, I first have something to discuss with Mrs. Reynolds, I will be back in a little time if that is all right by you?"

"Of course, but do not be too long for if I tried to make my own way I would surely get lost." Elizabeth said as Georgiana slipped out the door and closed it shut behind her.

Elizabeth moved around a little and then sat down on the bench to absorb the beautiful scenery in front of her. _'Mr. Darcy's mother must have had great taste if she chose this balcony to have tea on,' _she thought. And then her thoughts went to Georgiana's implication of Elizabeth to be Mr. Darcy's wife. The thought evoked a fluttering sensation in her stomach, in that moment she truly wished for a speedy return of Mr. Darcy, she had an overwhelming urge to see him and to feel his love. She was sure now that Mr. Darcy did not harbour any ill feelings from the day in the Parsonage, what she wanted to ascertain was whether he still loved her. He certainly looked at her in a most particular way, his intense gaze imparting secrets that his lips would not. But what of her own feelings, Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes putting her head on the arm of the bench, whenever his eyes were on her they made her feel as though she was the only person in the room, his gaze caressed her in a way that made her insides melt, she enjoyed his dry wit, his kindness towards his sister was very pleasing indeed and his open manners towards her Aunt and Uncle were a proof of his amiability.

Why did he seem so different from the man she had met at Hertfordshire in November? Had he changed or did she? Maybe it is as Georgiana said, he was awkward in social gatherings, and Elizabeth had mostly met him at some party or another, seldom having a chance to get to know the man behind the mask of cool reserve. No, she decided, this is the real man, the amiable, witty, kind and rather handsome man that was in her thoughts all the time, and she would very soon fall deeply in love with him if she had not already. She smiled contentedly and gave herself up to sleep, her last thought being '_I wonder where Georgiana has got to.'_

Elizabeth did not know how long she had slept before she heard a strange but familiar sound, she stirred some but was on the point of falling back into sleep when she felt as though some one was moving about, a door open and close and then she felt something jab in her shoulder. She was about to wake up completely when she heard someone say in a soft but deep voice,

"Miss Elizabeth, Miss Elizabeth wake up, it is almost dinner time," and then there was that jab in the shoulder again. She quickly sat up and opened her eyes with difficulty to see Mr. Darcy looking rather dashing in the fading evening light. Her heartbeat quickened as the now familiar butterflies rose in her stomach.

"M-Mr. Darcy," she stuttered, her lips feeling parched, "you look quite fetching." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she clapped her hands to her mouth and snapped out of her nap completely. Elizabeth had the distinct feeling of hearing a sound, quite like a strangled chuckle. _'Oh please tell me, I __**did not **__just say that out loud,' _she wailed inwardly.

"I thank you Miss Elizabeth," his answer confirmed that he had, in all probability, heard her, "you do look rather fetching yourself." She removed her hands from her mouth and straightened her shoulders, '_I_ _will not let him get the better of me_,' she looked up at him and found a roguish glint in his eyes but no sign of a smile, Elizabeth blinked. If falling in love meant becoming easily distracted and disconcerted than she would not give in easily, she braced herself to combat the magnetism he was exuding in large quantities.

"Mr. Darcy, I thought disguise of every sort was your abhorrence," she stood up and looked archly at him. Mr. Darcy paled for a second at this untimely mention of his words, but recovered quickly to ask rather seriously,

"And what may I ask am I accused of disguising in this particular instance?"

"Why your real opinion, of course," she replied smiling.

"And what would that be," he raised an eyebrow and took a step towards her.

"Well it cannot obviously be what you professed, sir, for I am sure I look positively horrid after sleeping on this bench for God knows how long," her hands went to her hair to put it to some order but instead managed to pull some more of her silky locks out.

"Can you see yourself right now Miss Elizabeth?" His voice sounded rather husky to her ears, she shivered involuntarily and shook her head in a negative.

"Then you will have to concur with my opinion," he came closer still and they now stood less than a foot apart, "I do happen to posses a rather discerning eye when it comes to…certain…err…**fetching**...um…objects." Elizabeth felt the heat rising into her cheeks, but composed herself quickly as this was too good an opportunity, to unsettle the stoic Mr. Darcy, to pass up.

"Mr. Darcy I will leave off for now, but I do happen to have it on good authority that you did not find me a…err…fetching…um…object a while ago," Elizabeth mimicked his words and looked at his confusion with eyes sparkling with triumph.

"Whose authority?" He frowned at her.

"Why **yours**, Mr. Darcy," she flashed him a beguiling smile and turned towards the door to exit. As she entered Mr. Darcy's mother's room, she felt his presence close behind.

"Do you mind elaborating on the statement you just made?" His voice rose from behind her, he was nearer than she had thought, perhaps too near. She suddenly felt unsure about telling him that she had actually heard him at the Meryton assembly. The light was dimming fast now, Elizabeth took quick steps towards the door.

"I would rather not Mr. Darcy," she half turned around before making it to the door when he also turned before he crossed her, so that they faced each other as their bodies came close, not enough to touch but enough to feel the heat emanating from each other. Elizabeth sucked in her breath sharply at his proximity; it was only the work of a moment though before she realized that he was blocking the door.

"Then I would rather not let you go out of this room Miss Elizabeth," he drawled as his eyes bored intensely into hers.

"There are other doors in this room you know," she tilted her head and threw him a challenging look, _'you have chosen the wrong person to play games with my dear Mr. Darcy,' _she thought and then blushed at the use of an endearment for him in her inner thoughts.

"There are," she thought she saw his eyes darkening for a moment, but maybe it was just the fading light, "and you are welcome to try them." He said without moving an inch. Elizabeth quickly moved towards a door on the left wall, opened it and stepped on the other side. Instead of the corridor, she found herself in yet another room, which was a darker and masculine version of Lady Anne Darcy's chambers, well lit with metal lamps and a few candles. Curiously she proceeded a few more steps until she was almost in the center of the room. She turned around to find Mr. Darcy standing at the adjoining door between the two rooms, his hands folded on his chest, his head resting on the door pane and his eyes burning with some unknown emotion, that made Elizabeth flush. She averted her eyes and asked hesitantly,

"Whose room is this Mr. Darcy?"

"Whose do you think?" He took a step inside and the door closed behind him. Elizabeth gulped, _'oh no, did I just step into the master's bedroom?' _Belatedly she remembered that Georgiana had told her that this room belonged to her brother.

"You are an intelligent woman Miss Elizabeth, surely you can work it out on your own," he looked smug.

"I have Mr. Darcy and I am afraid I have to leave now," she was panicking inside but held her head high, it was exceedingly improper for her to be in his room.

"And I," he smiled patronizingly at her, "am afraid that is not possible until you tell me what I want to know."

Elizabeth blinked, the man was infuriating and rather charming when being so, she felt like falling deeper and deeper.

…**..**

Darcy was having the time of his life, all the promises of acting with restraint in Elizabeth's company had flown out the window the moment she had blinked her drowsy eyes at him. He was trying, albeit with great difficulty, to not come close enough to touch, but she was drawing him to her like a flame draws a moth, he felt powerless in the face of his own passion for this sprite of a girl and yet he had never felt so exhilarated, so alive as he did now with Elizabeth looking at him in mute appeal to drop his question and let her go. But he was having too much fun sparring wits with her, crossing eyes with her and most of all cornering her.

"It is not proper for me to be in your room," Elizabeth tried desperately to keep the tremor in her voice hidden.

"I agree," he said with out batting an eyelash, "that is why the sooner you finish what you started, the sooner you can go." She moved towards the main door, without answering him. "I would not go out through this door if I were you Miss Elizabeth," he mocked, halting her movement, "it's the main door to my room, think of the scandal." Elizabeth paled at that and Darcy thought that maybe he had overstepped.

"I apologize Miss Elizabeth," he quickly came forward, "I only said it in jest, of course you can leave whenever you want to." He stepped aside, so she could exit through the adjoining door, but she looked at him thoughtfully and did not move.

"Why do you want to know?" She asked curiously.

"So I can defend myself, of course," Darcy brightened up immediately, _'she did not mind.'_

"Fair enough," she said, "but not here, shall we go out on the balcony again?"

"After you," he beamed, '_whatever pleases you darling.'_

"It is just that I overheard you say that I was tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt you, to Mr. Bingley at the Meryton Assembly." She said a little hesitantly as they stood on the terrace, watching the lamps illuminating the drive.

"You heard me say that?" Darcy barely suppressed a groan, his embarrassment in that moment was acute. '_Is there no end to my foolish remarks?'_

"I…uh…yes," he turned towards her to see her getting flustered.

"Is that why you hated me so much?" His tone was thoughtful when he asked.

"I never hated you Mr. Darcy," She said earnestly as she turned towards him.

"It certainly seemed that way…at the parsonage," he said dully, dropping his head.

"There were extenuating circumstances that day," she drew a little closer to him, "for both of us." Darcy looked up sharply and saw her looking kindly at him.

"Does that mean you have forgiven me for my behaviour that day?" His eyes held so much misery and so much hope at that moment that even the worst of his enemies might have forgiven him then.

"Of course I have," her hand on the railing moved a little closer to his lying there, but did not touch, "but have you forgiven me?"

"Me?" He looked at her in surprise, "what do I have to forgive? What did you say that day that I did not deserve?"

"Mr. Darcy," her beautiful eyes widened a little, "surely you are not going to take everything upon yourself, exempting me of my mistaken beliefs that I voiced so rudely that evening."

"The provocation was mine, and so must be the blame," Darcy held up his hand in finality. She stared at him for a few moments, her dark eyes reflecting the light from the lamps, as if deciding whether to go on or not, and then heaved an exasperated sigh before turning her face back towards the grounds. Darcy looked at her mesmerized, '_she blames herself for that day', _his heart overflowed with pride at his choice, where else could he find such generosity, such thoughtfulness and such humility, she was perfect. He drew nearer and covered her small, white hand lying on the railing with his large one, immediately he experienced a jolt of awareness traveling up from his hand to his arm and all the way to his heart. The world held still in that moment, nothing moved and no one breathed.

"You must know, there cannot be any doubt about how beautiful, how delightful and how tempting I find you to be," his voice dropped to a whisper as he said what was in his heart for such a long time now. He felt her breathing become laboured, she turned her head towards him, her dark eyes clashing with his stormy ones.

"I do now," she intoned slowly, not breaking the gaze and turning completely towards him.

"And do you believe me?" He was now drawing lazy circles on the back of her hand with his thumb, emboldened by her acquiescence. For the first time in his life, he was able to touch her without the barrier of gloves. The feel of her soft skin against his was making him loose control slowly, maddeningly.

"No," she said simply and smiled, her eyes brightening, "but if you want to disillusion yourself on my beauty, I would be the last person to stop you now, wouldn't I?"

Darcy opened his mouth to reply but just then the door flew open and Georgiana came through, dressed up for the evening. Darcy quickly dropped her hand as both he and Elizabeth took a step back from each other and looked at his beloved sister with barely concealed annoyance.

"There you are," she said, " I went looking for you in your room Elizabeth but could not find you."

"I did wonder where you had got to," Elizabeth smiled, Darcy felt his annoyance melting away.

"Oh yes," Georgiana cried, "sorry about that. When I came back after ordering tea, I found you asleep and thought it better not to disturb you, I meant to return for you but then I completely forgot." '_So Georgie brought her here,' _Darcy's annoyance at his sister's untimely entry was now completely done away, in fact he was now deeply thankful to her.

"No greetings for your brother Georgie," he looked sternly at her.

"Oh William," She quickly turned towards him, "it is so good that you came back early, although you did not look too happy to see me just now," she said innocently. Elizabeth chuckled and Darcy shuffled his feet a little.

"There was something on my mind," he said sheepishly.

"And something in your hand too," Georgiana tilted her head and flashed them both a wide smile. Elizabeth went red and Darcy groaned.

"This was the sound that woke me up," Elizabeth looked up and Darcy remembered how he had groaned at the sight of her lying on the bench, oblivious to her surroundings.

"Are you sure that it was not that," he produced the hairbrush he had went and picked up from his dresser, so he would not have to give in to the temptation to touch her. Georgiana giggled and moved towards the door to exit the balcony.

"Is that what you were jabbing me with?" Elizabeth asked indignantly as she followed Georgiana out of the terrace and into the room.

"I did not jab, I was very gentle," he returned equally as he stepped into the room and went to put the hairbrush back on the dresser.

"Indeed, I fear my shoulder would have to be amputated," she continued in the same vein, now near the main door behind Georgiana and said to her, "Are we getting late for dinner Georgiana? I have not yet changed you know."

"You do not have to stand on ceremony with us here Elizabeth," Georgiana gave her a reassuring smile as all of them stepped in to the corridor and made for the stairs.

"But both of you have changed and I look like a vagabond compared to you," she pouted prettily and looked most adorable to Darcy's eyes.

"It does not matter to us, but you can change as many times a day as you like from tomorrow, but right now let us just go to dinner for I am really hungry." Georgiana descended the stairs quickly.

Dinner was a pleasant affair with the women indulging in merry conversation and Darcy looking on but mostly staying quiet. After dinner the ladies repaired to the music room but he excused himself on the plea of fatigue and retired to his own rooms. As he laid in the bed that night, his imaginations of having Elizabeth in his room were tinged with reality, he had seen her in the Mistress's room, the balcony and his own chamber. What a sight that was to behold, he was overcome with emotions as she stood in the middle of the room looking at him with her shinning dark orbs. How he wanted to take her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her and to never let her go. He had not thought it possible but every passing day, he was feeling more deeply for her. _Soon, _he promised himself as he drifted off to asleep, _'I cannot wait much longer, I will ask her soon.'_

**Next Chapter: Elizabeth Acknowledges and Darcy Resolves**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17: Elizabeth Acknowledges and Darcy Resolves**

Mr. Darcy, on Georgiana's insistence, had taken a day off from his estate business and was right now walking the grounds of Pemberley with Elizabeth, to her delight, as they waited for Georgiana to bring her sketching supplies.

"You must sit for her a lot," Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy's profile as they made their way to the spot appointed by Georgiana, deep in the woods.

"Not as much as she would like, still," he said solemnly, "she has a lot of my sketches, but I hardly ever sit for her, she just draws me doing one thing or another."

"Yes I saw her collection," Elizabeth frowned at the remembrance, Georgiana had a veritable collection of Mr. Darcy's sketches, mostly done as he read or wrote."

"And you disapprove?" He had observed her expression.

"There is no variety, you look the same in almost all of them," she pointed out as they reached the bench, Georgiana had told them about.

"And how do I look?" He asked turning towards her.

"Grave, mostly," she told him frankly.

"Alright," he conceded easily, "then why do you not suggest some other expression and I would try to adopt it in the next sketch she draws of me."

"You ought to smile in the next one," she was quick to suggest. He looked at her intently for a moment before gesturing towards the bench for her to sit.

"Is it really so important to smile all the time?" He asked seriously.

"It is when you have such a beautiful smile," she said simply, looking directly into his eyes but then blushed slightly at her own daring and turned to sit on the bench. When she raised her eyes to his face again, he was still staring at her, transfixed. "Do you find it difficult?" She asked when he made no move to sit, talk or even blink.

"What? Smiling?" He asked, snapping out of the trance her words had put him in, "not if there is a reason to do so." He smiled then, a warm smile that made Elizabeth feel as if the clouds had parted to let the sunshine in.

"There now," she smiled back, "was it so difficult?"

"No," he said as he came to sit down beside her, at a safe distance. Since that evening at the balcony of his rooms, he had not tried to touch her again, or be that playful, but his quiet presence was enough to bring a peace to Elizabeth's heart. _'No,' _she thought, '_it was not important to smile all the time.' _"You are wearing lavender again," it was not so much a question as a statement.

"I often do," she said, colouring a little, "I did not know it was noticeable."

"Tell me, did you see me at the Munroe ball as I stood near the drinks table with my cousin?" He suddenly asked turning his penetrating gaze towards her.

"You saw me?" She asked, not knowing where to look.

"No," he shook his head slightly and in a significant way, "I felt your scent." Elizabeth felt her breath hitch.

"Yes," she willed herself to look at him, "it was me, I was standing right behind you and your cousin." He nodded briefly.

"It only occoured to me after I saw you leaving the ball that you must have been nearby at that time." Mr. Darcy drew a little nearer to her on the bench, "so you saw me and decided not to dance?"

"I did," she heaved a sigh, it felt good to let this off her chest, "I was not ready to face you just yet."

"And are you now?" His gaze searched hers.

"I am sitting here with you, am I not?" Her voice held a challenging edge now. "Tell me. Did you not feel my scent elsewhere?" She asked jokingly.

"Once," he frowned and then shook his head, "but it could not have been you."

"Tell me," she insisted excitedly becoming curious, _'he could not possibly have sensed my presence at the bookshop,' _she thought.

"It was a day prior to the ball, at a bookshop," he said dismissively. Elizabeth's heart pounded forcefully, '_he recognized my smell even then,' _it felt good that he remembered even the most insignificant of details about her.

"I was standing behind the shelf you and Georgiana were looking for the novels in," she now smiled fully at his bewildered expression. "The Illicit Ardour of the Clergyman's Daughter, I believe?" Mr. Darcy was stupefied.

"Good God, it **was** you," he blinked, "and you heard everything we said?" He asked in mock accusation.

"Yes," Elizabeth blushed at getting caught through her own stupidity.

"You are quite the eavesdropper madam," he teased drawing still nearer.

"As you are quite the ladies' scent detector," she returned equally, and he coloured slightly. Just then Elizabeth saw Georgiana coming through the clearing in the trees and waved at her. Georgiana approached quickly and dropped her supplies near the large tree as she plopped down by it. Mr. Darcy sighed beside her as his careful maneuverings to slide nearer and nearer to Elizabeth came to an abrupt halt with the appearance of Georgiana. Elizabeth suppressed a smile.

"Oh good," Georgiana said, "you are already sitting on the bench William, as that is how I want to draw you."

"Me?" He blinked, "I thought you would rather draw Miss Elizabeth."

"I have already sketched her," she smiled at Elizabeth, "today I want to draw you in profile. So do you mind sitting with your face turned towards that large alder," she pointed to his right, where Elizabeth was sitting. She quickly removed herself from the bench as Mr. Darcy turned his magnetic eyes towards her.

"Elizabeth you can go on sitting if you want to," Georgiana said quickly as she saw her getting up, "I can draw an empty bench with my imagination, you know," she smiled.

"Oh no," Elizabeth moved away to the tree where Mr. Darcy was supposed to look, "I would rather explore the woods."

"Do you need me to smile?" She heard Mr. Darcy ask Georgiana and smiled, "I have been assured I look good when I do."

"Such conceit," Georgiana teased back and then said uninterestedly, "well, if you want to," and then she started on her work.

"Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy called her from behind, "why do you not sit by the alder until Georgie finishes?"

"And why would I do that?" She asked already nearing the tree, how could she say no to**him.**

"It would help me to smile," his eyes twinkled at her and she quickly sat down, bending her head so he would not see her blush.

"I will sit here Mr. Darcy, but I have a condition," she said tilted her head to goad him, he raised his eyebrows in question. "You would have to answer a question," she smiled at him and he nodded. "Why did you refuse Mr. Bingley to stand up with him?" She had been wanting to ask him this question for long now and since they were talking about the past four months, she thought to satisfy her curiosity.

"I was not ready to see you yet," he echoed her words from a few minutes before but then added, "I also did not want to make you uncomfortable," he lowered his voice so Georgiana could not hear, "but I was wrong of course, and selfish too."

"And are you ready now, would you come?" She eyed him carefully.

"Wild horses would not be able to stop me," he looked meaningfully at her, "I have written to Bingley already, asking his forgiveness and a permission to stand up with him, and good man that he is, he has assented."

"So you will be at the wedding," she said slowly, thinking how exciting it would be to approach the altar with him, as she was to be Jane's maid of honour.

"Would you mind if I were?" He sat up looking anxious all of a sudden.

"Of course not," she quickly assured him, "nothing would please me more." She looked at him to gauge his reaction and his eyes mirrored her words, she averted her head, not being able to look into the smouldering blue depths for long.

Elizabeth got up after a while as Mr. Darcy asked Georgiana to hurry up. She walked a little away from the siblings, deep in thought. She could not deny it anymore, it was no use, her heart was full to the brim with unacknowledged feelings, vying to be recognized. She fingered the natural carvings in an old tree that time had left there, just like Mr. Darcy had slowly but surely made an irremovable mark on her heart, that she could not erase, did not want to either. Elizabeth rested her back on the tree, everyday brought a new and commendable facet of his character in light for her to see and admire, and now that she was free of any prejudice, she was appreciating his character more and also realizing how well suited he was to her. He was exactly the kind of man to make her happy in a marriage, he was tolerant of her deficiencies but equally cognizant of her qualities, what else could she want for. She turned around to see Georgiana collecting her supplies and packing them in her reticule and Mr. Darcy making his way towards her, she also started walking towards him with a quick step, wanting to meet him half way.

…

Darcy entered the music room, after consuming his after dinner glass of port, to find Georgiana and Elizabeth performing a duet. He sat down quietly, not wanting to disturb their performance, wishing they could stay like this forever. He applauded lightly as they finished.

"Play something soothing Georgie," he requested softly, the morning's trip to the fields had left him a little tired. Georgiana smiled and continued playing, as Elizabeth came to sit beside him.

"You look tired," she commented. _'Not with you around,' _he thought looking at her with love shining through his eyes.

"I am a little," he sighed, she frowned and looked questioningly at him. He understood that she probably wanted him to continue but he was not sure if she would be interested in the reasons why crop would not be so good this year.

"It's the fields," he began hesitatingly, "I am afraid they have been infested with a rather large number of insects, and this might affect the final crop."

"Did you not take proper measures to annihilate the insects?" She asked sounding genuinely interested.

"We did, but nothing out of the ordinary," he turned more towards her, observing her interest. "Did you read the newspaper today?" He asked suddenly.

"No," she said a little embarrassed, "I usually do not take much interest in the main pages, I am afraid."

"I am only asking because there was an article that elaborated on how the number of insects feeding on crops has doubled this year," he explained and then looked at her sternly, "you should read the newspaper everyday Miss Elizabeth, I also tell Georgie to do so," then his features softened, "this is also a kind of an education, a more worldly one."

"You are right, of course," she nodded, "my father tells me the same and I often take it up too, but somehow have not been able to make a habit of it."

"There is still time," he looked at her mischievously, "after all, you are only thirteen yet."

"Mr. Darcy," she winced, "this is one line of teasing, I could do without."

"Really," he sat up a little straighter, "then this is one line of teasing that you would never be without."

"You cannot assure that, sir," she smiled pertly, "I leave in a few days." His heart suddenly constricted most uncomfortably, _'I cannot let her leave without declaring myself.'_

"Then maybe I **would **do something to assure that before you leave," he stared deeply in her dark eyes and for once she did not avert her gaze, but held his enthralled. She did not smile, did not shy away, did not even blush this time, she just allowed him to take her beauty in. His eyes moved from hers to her dark hair, falling on her forehead to her pert little nose and down to her lips and that was when he noticed that she was beginning to acquire a light pink hue, rising up from her neck. He looked up to see that she had averted her eyes and was now staring at something on the carpet.

"That will be all Georgiana," he thought it best to call her over before things became more awkward between him and Elizabeth, _'I really must learn not to stare so much,' _"come sit with me and tell me what you have been doing all day."

Georgiana smiled and came to sit next to him as she told him what she and Elizabeth had been doing all day. He listened and smiled and soon, ignoring him, the two ladies were discussing the new style of bonnets that was all the rage this summer but did not provide much protection from the sun. He closed his eyes for a moment and opened them to find Elizabeth just averting hers from him, _'I must have her,' _he resolved for the twentieth time that day.

**Next Chapter: The Declaration**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18: The Declaration**

Elizabeth was wandering near the stream, thinking about how her thoughts, feelings and life had changed. It had been six days since she came to Pemberley and almost just as long since she had been feeling a slow ache building in her heart until she could deny its presence no longer. All the books she had read, all the beautiful poetry, even the love she had observed between couples like Jane and Mr. Bingley and her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner could not have prepared her for what she now felt for Mr. Darcy, for it was the single most beautiful emotion that she had ever experienced. _'I love him,' _she quickly sat by the stream and splashed her face with the clear cold water. Yes, she loved him, it was the simple truth. She hugged her knees to her chest and placed her chin on them, how wonderful, how beautiful it was to love someone the way she had come to love him. His smile, rarely seen, and all the more beautiful for it, had the power to make butterflies rise in her stomach, his eyes, so blue, like a stormy sea, could undo her with a single penetrating look and his touch, had lately been evoking a myriad of emotions in her.

She sighed and wiped her eyebrow, but it was not all about just the physical, even though his excessive good looks did not hurt. He was a very private man, so not all of his thoughts and moods were on display for everyone to asses, but he had let his guard down to let her in, and what she had seen there had warmed her heart. She knew that he was caring for his friends and family, but he was equally so for his tenants and servants, she remembered how two nights ago he had gone out in the night because one of his tenants house had caught fire and had stayed out almost all night, bringing the family with him when he came back so they could be adjusted in the servant's quarters until their house was repaired. That day Elizabeth had felt proud of the man who came back with a blackened face and clothes but had a sunny smile for her, she smiled at the memory of his smile.

She loved how he always took her as an equal in a discussion, never treating her or his sister as the weaker sex. He always encouraged debate and never stepped back and let her win an argument to please her but always admitted defeat with grace should she outwit him. This showed her that he had a strong mind that would not bend to another's will but was modest enough to know when it was beaten. Their choices of poetry were strikingly similar, though in prose they held different views. There was no topic he did not have a thorough knowledge of and he was always encouraging both Georgiana and Elizabeth to read the newspaper in order to develop their minds and broaden their thinking.

She got up from the ground and started walking back towards the house, the desire to see him overwhelming her all of a sudden, but he was not due to be back for a few hours still. _'Perhaps I could go into the portrait gallery and see his portrait,' _this thought quickened her step. The thought of his deep eyes fixed on her with a burning love warmed her, he loved her, she was sure of it. His every look, every gesture spoke to her, whenever they were in a room together it would feel like they were the only ones there, his eyes would hold hers captive indefinitely. She reached the door and entered as the footman held it open, every fiber of her being crying out for one look of him, the intensity of her emotion took her by surprise as she entered the room where laid her heart's desire. She reached his portrait with rapid steps and stood beneath it, was she fooling herself or did he really still loved her, she questioned herself. He certainly behaved like a man in love, but after being rejected once, will he have the courage to ask her a second time?

A servant had left a stool underneath Mr. Darcy's portrait after dusting it maybe, Elizabeth dragged it to the centre of his portrait and stepped on it to be closer to him. Her hand slowly went to hair, he kept it shorter now but in the portrait it was a little longer and curling at the edges, _would they be soft to touch, _she wondered and slowly brought her fingers to his broad forehead, smooth here but often having a frown in reality, she imagined the frown and smoothed it with her two fingers, smiling a little at her stupidity. Even his nose was perfect, straight and sharp though it was, her hand slipped to his cheekbones and slid down their smooth planes to his lips, lingered there awhile when catching herself, she blushed and stepped down the stool. She brushed her fingers to his hands, turned around and laid her head back on the wall, closing her eyes. A powerful emotion was building-up inside her, threatening to overflow, she wanted to tell him of her love but a part of her was still unsure of his regard. If only he would come here right now and say…

"Elizabeth?" a deep voice called her name hoarsely, disrupting her thoughts. Her eyes flew open in shock, _'this cannot be, did he just catch me caressing his portrait?'_

"Mr. Darcy!"

…**.**

Darcy was on edge. Anyone who knew him well, though not many did, would guess that something was amiss by his constant pacing. He had come back earlier from his visit to the new houses that he was having built for the tenants and was now trying to carve a ditch in the floor of the library through his constant pacing. The past few days had gone by like a dream, he found it hard to believe that Elizabeth Bennet was living under his roof. They had walked the grounds together, had taken meals side by side, she had played the piano while he had turned the pages, it had all been blissful harmony, but it was not enough.

He did not want to have a few days with her, he wanted a lifetime. Walking through the grounds of Pemberley with her had been a dream but now he wanted to travel the world with her; sharing meals for a few days was fine but he wanted to feed her with his own hands; brushing her shoulder while pretending to turn pages for her had woken up the desire to hold her in his arms; and arguments with her had made him wish to possess her heart as well as her mind, for what a beautifully fresh mind she had.

He stopped at the window and looked out absently, if only he could put the fear of being rejected out of his mind. She certainly had given him plenty of encouragement, smiling, laughing, teasing and pleasing, her response to him had been unmistakably heartening, but how to be sure. Just then he saw her walking with a quick step towards the house, as if she was determined to do something. How lovely she looked in a soft peach gown and suddenly he was decided, he could wait no more, he would go down right now and make all that loveliness his own before it drove him mad. He turned around and walked to the Library door, pausing for a second to check his appearance in a decorative mirror, adjusting his cravat, he quickly exited.

As soon as he stepped on the staircase leading to the ground floor, he saw her hurrying towards the portrait gallery. His heart was beating at a rate that would surely give a less healthy person apoplexy and he had a thousand things going through his mind as he made his way to where she had gone. Would she say yes, or reject him again? Darcy took a deep, steadying breath and braced himself to finally ask the question that would either make or break him. He did not know what he would do if she said no again, all he knew was that his love for her consumed him and he had to know whether he could win her still, or would he be condemned to a life of misery and loneliness.

Darcy entered the gallery, holding his breath, primed to face the woman who had bewitched him so that he could think of naught else, but nothing in this world could have prepared him for the site of Elizabeth standing on a stool sliding her dainty little hand across the features of _'his, Fitzwilliam Darcy's Portrait'. _He gasped and could not move beyond the threshold, could not move his eyes from her hand now lingering briefly at his lips. _'What is she doing?' _He had to know, so, as Elizabeth stepped off the small stool and stood with her eyes closed and back resting against the wall, he took a few quiet steps till he stood facing her. She was oblivious to his presence and yet was trying the last limit of his patience with her lashes casting dark shadows on her ivory skin and her lips slightly parted in a most enticing way.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, not remembering to put a 'Miss' before it.

"Mr. Darcy," her eyes flew open and went wide, "I…what…I th-thought you would be out on the es-estate…I…"

"Elizabeth please tell me what this means," he was too agitated to listen to her embarrassed ramblings, he took a step closer and was now standing near enough to feel her breath, but she was holding it, "do you feel something for me, anything?" He begged.

And then her eyes darkened as she raised her hand to touch his cheek lightly, he closed his eyes briefly to savour her touch and then opened them to find her looking up at him with an expression he had never seen on her face before.

"Not something," she said in a barely audible voice, her eyes now dropped to her feet, "not anything…**Everything**," she emphasized the last word and Darcy felt his heart would burst. He quickly dropped to his knee.

"Will you marry me?" He asked, his heart in his face.

"I will. Yes," she was now looking at him with downcast eyes, her face glowing with happiness. Darcy could not believe it, _thank God she is not wearing gloves, _he thought as his lips kissed the back of her hand and felt her shiver, he turned her hand around and placed his lips on her palm then moved to the pulse in her wrist and felt it quicken like his own. He looked up and found her watching him shyly, he stood up without breaking contact with her beautiful eyes as his hands moved to her shoulders, pulling her towards him till their bodies touched lightly.

"You do not know how I have longed for you to accept me Elizabeth," he trailed her cheeks with his fingers as colour slowly crept up her face, "do you have any idea how much I love you?" His intense gaze bored into her. "How many lonely hours I have spent agonizing on how you could never be mine?"

"But I could," she said in a soft voice, "and I am." Darcy felt like he was floating on clouds then, his mind a jumble of thoughts and sensations. She had said that she felt everything for him, that se would marry him, that she was his, did this mean that she loved him now?

"Do you," he began hesitantly, his hand falling back to her shoulder, his grip tightening, but she cut him.

"I love you," she said slowly, as if savouring each word, her eyes shining brightly, confirming what her lips had just said and Darcy felt as though he would die of happiness just then. His arms went around her as he hugged her tightly to him just as she reached for his shoulders from behind his arms.

"Say it again," he needed to hear those long awaited words for a thousand times before he could believe them.

"You first," came a teasing voice against his chest. He pulled back a little to see her and she smiled impishly up at him, _'oh how he wanted to kiss those smiling lips.'_

"I love you, I adore you," he cupped her face in his hands, his voice shaking with emotion, "you are the most beautiful, most wonderful woman that ever was to breathe," he stopped and took in her thrilled expression, "I…"

"I love you," she cut him again, but this time her voice was not soft, it was hoarse with joy, "your love is my most cherished possession," she placed her hand on his lying on her shoulder, "I know now how wrong I was about you, but never have I been happier to be proven wrong," she breathed and looked deeply into his passion-filled eyes. "You cannot imagine what you mean to me."

Darcy could take no more, such love filled words were beyond his imaginings. _'Did she really love him, could she really feel so deeply for him, as he did for her?' _He looked intently at her and then his eyes dropped to her lips, slowly he lowered his head and his lips touched the corner of her mouth to drop a kiss there, immediately she stiffened. Darcy cautioned himself to go slow and gentle on her, but he could not stop himself from the act altogether, he had waited too long for this.

"Elizabeth," he said her name like an endearment as his lips dragged from one corner of her mouth to the other, putting a little pressure to feel their softness and oh how soft they were, he stopped and kissed the other corner, he could feel her heart beating wildly in unison with his own as he pulled her closer to him and put his lips to her ear, "I want to taste you," he whispered. She did not say anything as she closed her eyes and let her head drop backwards, her rosebud mouth inviting him. Darcy's hand reached up to cup the back of her head as his hot lips kissed the centre of her mouth, once, twice and thrice until hers parted of their own accord. He gave in then and captured the soft petals into his lips, tightening his grip on her trembling body, he tasted her again and again, trying hard to remain gentle as he did not want to scare her. But maintaining control on himself was becoming increasingly difficult when her hands grabbing his coat pushed him away a little.

"I c-can-not…b-breathe," she said panting, her colour heightened, her lips red and moist from his kisses. To Darcy, nothing had ever looked more captivating, he wanted to push her against the wall and crush his lips on hers but maybe she was not ready. He breathed deeply and stepped back, removing his arms from around her waist.

"I did not say you could stop embracing me," she pouted and Darcy almost lost control all over.

"I cannot embrace you and not kiss you," he said huskily as she blushed anew, "and some servant might come anytime." He smiled and stepped back a little more as he adjusted his cravat again, Elizabeth also tried to put her hair to sorts.

"So does this mean we are engaged?" She asked him playfully, stepping away from the wall and nearer to him, "now that you have compromised me."

"Of course we are engaged," he said contentedly, "but I would not call this a compromise," his eyes flashed at the thought of ways he could compromise her in, as they began to walk slowly towards the door.

"But…," she began to argue but Darcy cut her.

"Whatever theories you have about the art of compromising, I am at you service to make them a reality."

"Mr. Darcy," she gave an indignant cry. But Darcy was in no humour to talk about anything other than what had just happened, he wanted every little detail of how her feelings came to change so much.

"Elizabeth, is it really true?" He gazed into her eyes with wonder, "you really have consented to be mine, you are mine?"

"Forever," she smiled reassuringly at him as he pulled her hand to his lips.

"You have made me the…" he was unable to finish his sentence.

"Excuse me sir," Mrs. Reynolds said entering the gallery, "but Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner have come and are waiting in the drawing room."

Darcy panicked, had they come to take Elizabeth away just as she had accepted him into her heart, he could not bear it, he had not even told her half the things that were in his heart yet. He turned towards her with a frown. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and smiled reassuringly at him and his heart soared, _'no one can take her away from me, she is mine, she said so herself.' _He smiled back and they walked towards the drawing room together.

**Next Chapter: Assurances**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19: Assurances**

Elizabeth did not know how she went through the motions of the day after she stepped out of the portrait gallery on Mr. Darcy's arm. Her Aunt and Uncle had come back earlier than expected as some urgent business called Mr. Gardiner back to London and Mrs. Gardiner's another sister had come to take her place in caring for the new mother. So they were to travel back to Longbourn after breakfast tomorrow, Mr. Darcy had very graciously included her Aunt and Uncle in his hospitality and therefore they were to stay the night at Pemberley. Georgiana, of course was heart broken at the news of Elizabeth leaving so soon and was constantly trying to convince her to stay on for a little longer, after Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner had repaired to their rooms for the night, claiming fatigue.

"Elizabeth, please," she begged from her seat by the hearth, "you cannot go yet. Stay on for a bit longer and then me and William will go to Hertfordshire to drop you off ourselves. Would we not William?" She turned towards Mr. Darcy who was sitting on the couch a little away from them.

"Of course," he said absentmindedly staring at Elizabeth as he had been doing all night because tonight she had a certain glow about her that made her all the more beautiful.

"But dearest, I have been away from home for too long," she tried to explain and looked to Mr. Darcy for help, "my father must miss me a lot." _'The way he looks at me makes me melt,' _she turned back to Georgiana.

"William would write to your father and explain that you are needed here. Would you not William?" She turned towards her brother again.

"Of course," he replied, still staring at her, but Elizabeth knew that he was not listening to anything, she repressed a smile.

"And what would he say in that letter?" Elizabeth tilted her head to a side, knowing that he would do no such thing as he must be intending to follow her to Hertfordshire at the earliest opportunity, to ask for Mr. Bennet's consent.

"Oh he will think of something, would you not William?"

"Of course," he repeated again and this time both girls burst out laughing.

"Have you forgotten how to say anything else?" Georgiana asked still giggling.

"What?" He snapped out of the trance he was in, "what are you two talking about? I am afraid my mind was elsewhere," he sipped his port as he eyed Elizabeth's lips, she immediately reddened.

"Oh never mind," Georgiana got up from the couch, "Elizabeth, come to my room after you have changed, we shall talk all night." She smiled and exited, to give some time to her brother with her friend, alone. Mr. Darcy was with Elizabeth in one long stride as soon as she left.

"I know that you have to go tomorrow so I shall not stop you, indeed I am anxious for you to go," he smiled and took her hand, "for the sooner you go the sooner I can follow you and talk to your father. But you have to come and meet me in the Library tonight," he said firmly, squeezing her hand, "we have to talk about so many things."

"I know," she said getting up and looking at his beloved face, "but me and Georgiana talk very late into the night, and since I am leaving tomorrow, she would like to keep me with her all night."

"Make some excuse and come away," he said adamantly and led her towards the parlour door, "I do not care what, I have a right to be with my fiancée tonight."

"I do not know what I can say unless we tell her," she said exasperatedly, _'he really is quite stubborn, like me,' _she thought.

"Then let us tell her," he said brightening up.

"No," she cried quickly, taking her hand out of his, "she is so transparent, the Gardiners will see through her completely, and they would think it improper that I stayed with you in your house knowing your intentions towards me. You must tell her once I am gone."

"Fine," he gave in knowing that she was right, "but you must come Elizabeth," he touched her cheek lightly, "I have to see you alone before the day is out."

"But I would not be able to come even after I leave Georgiana's room," she blushed at the thought of going in front of him wearing her night clothes.

"Why ever not?" He scowled at her.

"Because…well…I…errr," she could not bring herself to say it and dropped her eyes.

"Tell me," he urged softly now.

"Because I would be in my night clothes," she blurted and then shut her eyes for a moment, opening them to find him staring at her with darkening eyes.

"Well," he gulped, "now you just **have **to come." Elizabeth chuckled and went to her room to change.

Laying in Georgiana's huge four-poster bed in her spacious room with pink wallpapered walls, all she could think of was Mr. Darcy's love filled words and _ahem…actions._ She tried to talk to Georgiana, but her mind was trapped in the moment when he had asked her if he meant anything to her, he did not know, he had no idea what he meant to her, he meant the world or maybe even more than that.

"Elizabeth," Georgiana complained, "if you are not going to pay attention, you might as well go to sleep."

"Oh Georgiana, I am so sorry," she quickly apologized to her soon to be sister, "but I have a lot on my mind."

"I know," Georgiana said sadly, "I had thought that we would be able to spend some more time with each other before you go."

"Me too," Elizabeth smiled fondly at her friend, "but I want you to know that whatever time I have spent with you, will always remain in my heart as one of my fondest memories."

"Oh Elizabeth," she cried, "I wish you could stay here forever."

"Maybe I will," Elizabeth smiled mysteriously and Georgiana sat up quickly, her eyes widening.

"You will?" Her voice was so hopeful that Elizabeth felt guilty of hiding it from her.

"If I am Georgiana, you must know that it is for your brother to tell you and not me," she hinted but could not rob Mr. Darcy of telling this to her himself.

"Of course," she smiled knowingly, "I understand."

"Now I have to go and pack my things," Elizabeth said getting off of the bed.

"Oh, why did you not tell me before that you still have to pack," Georgiana also got up quickly, "I will summon Betty right now."

"No need dearest," Elizabeth smiled at her concern and held out her hands as Georgiana approached her from the other side of the bed, "I am used to doing my own packing."

"But if you need any assistance, let me know," Georgiana squeezed her hands.

"I thank you," Elizabeth planted a quick kiss on her forehead, "good night. I shall see you in the morning," and hurried out leaving a smiling Georgiana behind.

Elizabeth entered her room and went straight to the dresser, her hair was coming out of the ribbon Georgiana had tied to the end of her braid. Her hair was too silky for the night time braid to be kept in place by a mere ribbon. She quickly brushed her hair as her thoughts drifted to the gallery. How heartbreakingly beautiful he had looked before asking her if she would marry him, hope shining through his striking blue eyes, those eyes that were the window to his beautiful soul. She sighed and decided not to braid her hair and just tie it with a ribbon, a blue ribbon, _'like his eyes,' _she smiled. She took up the lavender filled vial and rubbed it behind her ears as his whispered words caught her unawares, _'I want to taste you,' _something fluttered in her stomach and suddenly her throat felt parched. She looked at herself in the mirror as she tied the belt of her night gown tightly around her waist, her eyes were sparkling unnaturally bright giving her a wild, untamed look.

She hurried through the empty corridor towards the stairs, there were no footmen stationed anywhere, she thought it odd but had other things to think about. _Will he kiss me again? _She almost fell off the last couple of stairs at this thought, the thought of his lips on hers made a tingle surge through her spine. She stopped before the Library door and took a deep steadying breath and then opened it to enter. It was empty, she frowned. And then suddenly two arms enveloped her in a soft embrace from behind, making her heart constrict in now a familiar way.

"I thought you would never come," his deep voice resonated near her as his lips touched briefly behind one ear, making her gasp.

"How could I not," she said and placed her hands on his gripping her waist firmly. He pulled her closer and she was about to turn

around in his arms, to see him so close, but froze as she felt his lips on one side of her neck. She barely suppressed a moan as he made his way towards the nape and then she felt his lips open and the barest graze of teeth and maybe even a bit of tongue, this time she could not suppress the involuntary sound she made, and reddened immediately at her shamelessness.

"I have been wanting to do this ever since I saw you at the Munroe ball," he said smugly, relinquishing his hold and moving beside her. She looked up to find the same untamed quality in his eyes as she had found in her own. "Come," he held out his hand to her, "I want to show you something." She gave him her hand, observing him discreetly, he was wearing just a shirt and breeches, like the first day that she had seen him at Pemberley. He walked her to the backmost shelf, removed some books and did something to the back of the shelf and pushed it so that it opened like a door.

"Is this a secret chamber?" Elizabeth said in utter surprise.

"Yes," he smiled at her surprise, "My father's grandfather had it made, his wife was a headstrong woman like yourself and he needed time away from her impertinence now and then," he teased as he gestured for her to step in.

"Then do you not think it a mistake to let me in on your hiding place," she raised an eyebrow impishly at him and said "where will you hide from me now?" as she stepped inside. It was a beautiful room, all done up in shades of blue, not too large but with ample supplies to make it comfortable. It had a desk in one corner, book shelves in another, two chairs by the hearth and a couch in azure blue velvet near the wall beside the door.

"What makes you think that I would like to hide from your impertinence dear Elizabeth," he said closing the door behind him, "after all it is what attracted me to you in the first place." He placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly turned her towards himself.

"Really?" She tilted her head to tease him some more, "and here I was thinking that it was my _not so tempting _looks that captured your heart." Before she knew what was happening she found herself pushed against the wall and Mr. Darcy pressed against her, his proximity fueling her senses with something heady.

"Oh you tempt me," he breathed near her face, "you tempt me rather too much for my own good."

"Mr. Darcy," she protested half heartedly.

"Let us drop the Mr. Darcy shall we," he suggested huskily, "call me by my name." She gulped, what should she call him, William like Georgiana, or Fitzwilliam which was his real name, written at the end of the letter he wrote her.

"Say it," he urged tenderly.

"Fitzwilliam," she said slowly, testily, it felt good saying it and even better when she felt the light pressure of his hot lips on hers.

"Say it again," he demanded against her lips, "I want to kiss you as you say my name." Elizabeth found it difficult to breathe, _'what fantastic wishes he had.'_

"Fitzwilliam," she whispered as he captured her mouth with his, "Fitzwilliam," she repeated out of her own accord this time and felt him shudder lightly with desire. His hands came quickly behind her neck and lower back as hers climbed up to his neck and shoulder. He pulled her flush against himself as he devoured her mouth hungrily with a passion that she matched in desire but did not yet know how to respond. But he was ready to teach, his lips softly prying hers open as his tongue glided over them. She moaned softly in his mouth as his hands started their maddening explorations. She started responding in kind as her hands found his hair and also found it just as soft as she had thought, but the sensations his touch was creating had left her mind empty of anything but a tingling that made her push and arch into him.

"Oh Elizabeth," he groaned as he captured her tongue at last and sipped it like a man who had not tasted even a drop of water for weeks. Elizabeth felt her knees go week and her breathing become impossibly difficult. _'What is happening to me,' _she thought, what was this invigorating thrill that ran through her body leaving her numb yet alive and somehow wanting for more?

"S-stop," she managed to croak out in between his ardent kisses that she had returned with equal fervour till she felt like she could not stand on her feet anymore.

"No," he growled as he let go of her mouth and was now following a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her milky throat, "I cannot."

"St-stop p-please," she gasped as she felt her knees give way.

"Why?" she opened her eyes with difficulty to find him all flushed and flustered, looking at her with a hurt expression on his face.

"Because I am going to faint if you do not," she completed the sentence with difficulty as she sagged against him, closing her eyes once again.

"Oh my darling I am so sorry," he said in liquid accents, "I should have known this will be too much for you." And with one fluid movement he picked her up in his arms.

"W-what are you doing?" Elizabeth's eyes fluttered open.

"Helping you regain consciousness," he smiled adoringly at her as he took her towards the couch and softly laid her down on it. "Would you like some wine?"

"I…yes," she closed her eyes again as her heartbeat started normalizing a little.

"Here you go," he handed her a glass and stood in front of her, eyeing her thoughtfully.

"Will you not sit with me?" She looked at him with appealing eyes as she took the glass from his hands.

"I..," he hesitated for some reason, "Elizabeth, your nearness makes me loose control, just like I did now, I…"

"Sit with me please," she insisted, "I want to be close to you," she said as she dropped her eyes and he quickly sat beside her. Elizabeth placed her head on his shoulder and he brought his arm around her to rest at her waist.

"I apologize for forcing myself on you like this," he said drawing circles on her waist with his hand, their warmth seeping down through the double layers of her night shift and gown.

"You did not," she placed the goblet on the table nearby and she snuggled closer to his warmth, now that her own heated body had cooled down, "I…um…it was all so new and bewildering to me," she said a little hesitantly.

"You did not like it," he stiffened up. She quickly turned towards his alarmed countenance.

"Of course I liked it, I loved it," She clapped her hands to her mouth, _'oh that my tongue would learn to obey my mind.'_

"You did, did you," he grinned boyishly, "I was afraid I had pushed you to your limit." Mr. Darcy squeezed her to himself.

"I do not think I had quite reached my limit yet," she said and then was horrified at her tongue again. He threw back his head and laughed.

"This is what I love the most about you," he turned her to face him, "your frankness and open manners, maybe because I myself lack them."

"Well whatever you lack in manners, you more than make up in your kisses," Elizabeth's eyes twinkled.

"Always glad to be of service, My Lady," he said in an exaggerated accent and then took her hands in his, "you have made me the happiest man in the world my love," he kissed her fingers lightly, "I still cannot believe you fell in love with me," he said in awe.

"But I did," she smiled and passed a hand through her hair realizing that her ribbon was not holding it together anymore, but not caring about it just then.

"How?" He asked as he reached behind her shoulder to touch her hair.

"Oh I do not know, but I think the process started from the day I read your letter," she briefly closed her eyes as she relished the way his fingers moved in her hair.

"Did it?" He was obviously surprised as he removed his hand from her hair and dropped to the rug on the floor, placing his head on her knees, "tell me about it," he requested.

"There is not much to tell," almost instinctively her fingers reached for his hair and started playing with it, "I just, I just could not stop thinking about you, sometimes angrily, sometimes with remorse, but there you were, in my thoughts, all the time."

"It is comforting to know that all the time I was agonizing over you, you were thinking of me too," he turned his head to look at her and smiled.

"Yes, well, I was," she moved her hand to his forehead, "and then I overheard you and Georgiana in the book shop and also saw you at the Munroe ball and, well, let us just say that I went back to Hertfordshire with thoughts of you occupying my mind." She dropped her hand to his eyebrows and smoothed her fingers over them, "I used to quiz Mr. Bingley, quite frequently, about you, you know."

"Yes I do," he said a little sleepily, "he wrote to me about it."

"Did he?" She felt embarrassed for a moment but then shrugged it away, as it did not make any difference now. "But it was when I came here, to Pemberley, that I observed another facet of your personality, that I had not known existed," she caressed his cheeks.

"What facet would that be?" He slurred, '_is he falling asleep,' _Elizabeth wondered.

"Your considerate side," she pinched him on the cheek and felt him smile, "the way you take care of everyone from your sister to your tenants, from your servants to your guests. You are so open minded and progressive, you always treat me as an equal."

"That is because you are an equal," he looked at her tipping his head back, "in fact you are a superior."

"What do you hope to obtain through such blatant flattery?" She teased as her fingers slid over his lips and within moments he was up on the couch, embracing her close to his heart.

"This," he uttered as his lips once again began their slow assault on hers, "umm…soft," he whispered between kisses, "so soft Elizabeth." She again felt the breathlessness and the tingles, but this time her reaction took herself by surprise as she writhed in his arms, pushing just as hard against him as he was against her.

"Oh darling," he was now dropping soft kisses all over her face, "you are the most precious thing in the world to me. Marry me soon," he said as he cupped her face in his hands.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, "of course." He softly moved her hair off her face, "your hair is beautiful, I used to dream about touching it, running it through my fingers, and now I can," he said with childish triumph that made Elizabeth giggle.

"Tell me," he asked settling back on the couch and holding her in a soft embrace, "how soon can I come to Hertfordshire?"

"As soon as you can," she replied, "how about two weeks after I leave, that should give you ample time to adjust your affairs here and come to Netherfield for as long as you want because I would not want to be separated from you once you are there," she intertwined her fingers through his.

"That sounds wonderful," he rested his head on hers, "I would tell Georgiana after you leave tomorrow. Will you tell anyone before I come?"

"Yes, Jane," she smiled, "but I will keep it a secret until you arrive, and then we can formally announce it after you talk to Papa."

"All right then, it is settled," he kissed her forehead lightly, "I think you ought to go to sleep now, you have a long journey ahead."

"Yes," she slipped out of his embrace and stood up, he followed suit.

"I shall walk you to your door," he gave her his arm.

"At this time of the night? _Think of the scandal_," she mimicked his words.

"There will be no scandal," he smiled a little mysteriously, "did you not notice that there were no footmen on duty tonight?" Elizabeth nodded and he went on, "well I instructed Mrs. Reynolds to have them rest for the night."

"Your cunning does you credit Mr. Dar…I mean Fitzwilliam," she quickly corrected herself as he turned to close the door and rearrange the books.

"You will get used to it," he patted her hand, led her to the library door and together they stepped into the corridor. "I wonder how long it will be before we would be able to roam the corridors without getting rid of the footmen," he said.

"Not long I hope," she said shyly as they climbed up the stairs. Darcy stopped when they reached the door of her room, she turned to look questioningly at him.

"Now go to sleep," he brushed her cheek lovingly with the back of his fingers, "you must be tired now."

"I cannot just yet," she held his hand against her face, "I am not quite finished with packing my trunks."

"Do you want my help?" His eagerness made Elizabeth smile, she was sure that he only wanted to seek entrance into her room and steal some more kisses.

"No, I shall manage, you should go and sleep now."

"I doubt if I will be able to sleep tonight," he drew her closer, holding her dark gaze captive with his blue one.

"And why is that?" Elizabeth looked at him through hooded lashes, not knowing the captivating picture she presented to him. He did not answer but dipped his head and kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers for a few moments before parting.

"I think you know," he whispered and then was gone within a few moments.

Elizabeth entered her room breathing heavily and threw herself on the bed, immersed in Mr. Darcy's no _'Fitzwilliam's' _thoughts. In that moment, she knew that nothing would ever remain the same, everything had changed, **she** had changed, **he** had changed her, and what a wonderful change it was. She smiled contentedly and rolled off the bed and went towards the small but elegant writing table in the corner of the room, she had a letter to write before she started on her packing.

…**..**

Darcy quickly walked away from the magnet that was Elizabeth, without looking back as he knew that one look back at her standing by her bedroom, her night gown all disheveled and he would not be able to resist _'helping her to pack.' _He took a deep breath as he entered his room and threw himself on the bed, burying his face in the pillow his heart thumping in his throat. '_Could it be true,' _he rolled on his back, '_does she really love me,' _he sat up and jumped off the bed to change into his nightwear, which automatically brought his mind back to Elizabeth in hers, not that his mind had wandered away from it for long that night.

He was unable to get the picture, she had made as he had held her to his chest, with her hair coming loose from its ribbon, her night gown coming loose at the waist and exposing her creamy skin to his thirsty eyes, and the way her eyes had glittered and flashed, out of his head. He breathed deeply as if she was still looking at him the way he had dreamed of but never thought would come to happen, with passion, with **love. **Darcy buttoned his night shirt up and went back to his bed, slipping under the covers, how can anyone be so soft all over, _'man she was so flexible as she had moulded her yielding body to mine,' _he wondered. The thought of him being the first man ever to kiss those luscious lips made his heart swell and he smiled, quite pleased with himself at almost making her faint with his kisses.

Darcy turned to his left as he dwelled on her words, she had said that she could not stop thinking about him ever since she read his letter. Harsh as it was, he could not think how her trip to Derbyshire might have gone if he had not written it. Darcy was sure that even though he had only written the letter to try and vindicate himself of all the allegations Elizabeth had leveled against him, unbeknownst to him, it also prepared Elizabeth to fall in love with him on the off chance that they ever met. _'We were meant to be,' _he thought, '_why else would the two __**almost **__meetings at the bookshop and the ball occour?' _Those meetings also softened her up in his favour, not to mention her incessant quizzing of Bingley, which Georgiana had already thought rather dubious, that also helped her to ascertain his character.

He shuddered to think if she had refused him this morning, he would not have been able to survive a second refusal, but these were vain thoughts, she had consented and there was nothing that could separate them now. He tried to close his eyes and go to sleep but visions of his **fiancée **professing her love for him in the gallery would not leave his irises. Her eyes had shone in a peculiar way that he had not seen before, maybe his own had done the same, he would ask her in the morning, only if the morning would just come right now. It was at dawn when sleep claimed him at last.

But it was only an hour afterwards that Darcy woke up panting, from a strange dream. He wiped the sweat off his brow, the dream had him panicked because in the dream, Darcy was with Elizabeth back at the Hunsford Parsonage, and he kept on telling her that they were engaged but she kept on denying and insisting that she did not remember, _'I do not remember, I do not remember,' _she had cried over and over, until he woke up. Darcy had thrown the covers off him in his sleep, probably because of the panic he had felt in it, he climbed off the bed, his mind a jumble of thoughts.

_'Can it really happen?' _He thought, could she really forget him, just like that, but then he shook his head at his stupidity, after all it was just a dream. His valet entered to prepare him for the day and Darcy gave himself up to be readied. Climbing down the stairs he thought about Hunsford and how he had not apologized properly to Elizabeth about everything yet. He resolved to do so before she left, he did not want to give her any reason to cast him aside, not that she will, she had assured him of her love and he believed her, but his heart had wallowed in misery for too long to be secure yet. He reached the main door, and hoped that Elizabeth would come to the gazebo and headed there himself, without eating anything, lost in thought.

"Good morning Fitzwilliam," a soft hand slipped into his as he neared the gazebo, jumping at the sound of her voice.

"You scared me," he said as he took in her radiant face and gripped her hand a little tighter.

"And here I was, thinking that I was the handsomest woman of your acquaintance," she pouted as they reached their destination and climbed the few stairs to it.

"You undoubtedly are," he looked at her carefully, '_well she does not appear to have any second thoughts yet,' _he thought.

"Elizabeth," he cleared his throat and began as they stood in the middle of the gazebo, "there is something I want to say to you." She nodded, her eyes fixed on him in that strange unfamiliar way that made him feel loved, a sensation he was not yet used to but would do anything to keep feeling it forever after.

"I believe I never actually apologized to you," he took her other hand in his too, she blinked.

"Apologize for what?" She stepped a little closer, and the scent of lavender hit his senses again like it had last night, making him intoxicated, he gripped her hands tighter.

"For my cruel words at the Parsonage," he could not look into her eyes anymore, so he dropped his head, "how must you have hate…"

"I think we already dealt with this issue on your balcony," she cut him hastily and then said in a firm voice, "I have not risen so early and come here to meet you, risking all manner of impropriety in the presence of my Uncle, to talk about a past, though instrumental in bringing about our present understanding, is still upsetting to us both," She now scowled at him.

"I cannot help it," he uttered morosely as he left her hands and turned his back to her, "every time my mind wanders to that evening, I cannot help thinking that you cannot possibly forgive me for it, and my heart would not be able to take it if you changed your mind," his voice broke as he said the last words. He felt a soft pressure on his arm, pulling him around. He turned to find Elizabeth's eyes fairly blazing with anger.

"Do you not trust me?" She cried, "do you think me so fickle that I would retrieve my word, nay, my heart?" Her voice shook a little as he cupped her face in his hands, "do you think I could ever forget you after what happened between us yesterday."

"No, no," he said fervently shaking his head, "no, I…just…I," he then laid his forehead on hers, "I have weltered in so much doubt and woe for the past four months that it just seems a little unfathomable that you would accept me now."

"But I have," she said exasperated, and then firmly planted her own hands on his cupping her cheeks, "and nothing has made me happier than loving you and being loved by you in return." Her eyes now shone with unshed tears, and Darcy felt the last of his insecurities fading away, this image of perfection was his and he would not tarnish these few cherished moments with her with misgivings that did not exist.

"My love," he whispered bringing down his lips and pressing them softly to hers, "promise me that you will never forget me."

"Never," she whispered determinedly against his mouth and Darcy's hands lowered themselves to her waist, gripping it tightly as hers slipped into his hair, "I promise." With these words Elizabeth rubbed her yielding lips gently to his hot ones and he lost all coherent thought. He picked her up and took her to the bench, sitting her in his lap, his lips first touched her forehead, then the smooth lids of her beautiful eyes coming down to the tip of her nose and then peppered her cheeks slowly making their way to her rose bud mouth. He softly kissed their length before claiming them wholly, marveling at how supple they were he slowly nibbled at her lower lip and heard her moan. Darcy quickly opened his eyes to look at her.

"Did I hurt you?" He said a little breathlessly, her eyes slowly opened and looked dazedly at him but instead of replying she just pulled his head to her, biting his lower lip playfully. Darcy groaned, and crushed his lips to hers, her soft whimpers fueling his desire. It seemed no matter how long and how hard they kissed, he wanted more.

"Do not go Elizabeth," he said hoarsely grazing her earlobe as she moaned and moulded her body to his entirely, '_oh how delightfully responsive she is,' _he returned to her lips and devoured them feverishly, tasting their sweetness over and over and relishing in the enticing sounds she was making. He finally released her out of necessity for both of them to breathe, their foreheads resting against each others, their rapid breaths mingling together.

Elizabeth slowly slipped off his lap, sat beside him and put her head on his shoulder as he encircled her waist with his arms, they both sighed contently.

"I have to go Fitzwilliam," she looked up at him slowly drawing circles on the back of his hands, an action that was surprisingly soothing, "it is important that I go now, so I can come back again." His grip tightened at her words.

"Yes," he said simply.

"And I will not forget you," Elizabeth turned towards him completely. "Some day," she continued in a thoughtful tone, "when I am old and suffering from delusions," her eyes crinkled at the corners, making Darcy smile, "I might forget you, I might even forget myself," her tone became serious as she looked into his eyes deeply, "but I could never forget the way you make me **feel**. My heart would always race at your touch," she closed her eyes briefly as his knuckles slipped down her cheek, "your words might be forgotten, but your voice would always be familiar to me. I would always detect your presence close to me Fitzwilliam, such is my intensity of awareness for you."

"You are too good for me," he pulled her close and rested his chin on her head, his heart full to the brim with love for her and yet somehow that love was still growing every moment.

"Indeed I am," she smiled, her tone lightening, "so if I ever forget you, all you have to do is kiss me like you just did, and I shall remember." He chuckled.

"Can I ask a favour of you?" Darcy stood up facing her, she smiled and nodded,

"Anything."

"I have gathered from our conversations that you still have that letter I wrote to you, am I correct?" he asked. She nodded in confusion and stood up.

"Will you burn it please?"

"But it is the only memento I have of you," she protested, wrinkling her nose.

"You have me, do you not?" He huffed and saw Elizabeth hide a smile, "besides you would have several things to remind you of me after a fortnight, so humour me in this. I would sleep easy knowing you do not have that monstrosity."

"Fine, your Highness," she acquiesced, although a little petulantly, "your wish is my command. And now that you have got what you lured me here for, shall we go back now before a search party is assembled for us?"

"I am not overbearing Elizabeth, contrary to what your words suggest," he scowled at her as they descended down the steps and started walking towards the house.

"Whatever you say my Lord," she teased and watched his scowl deepen, with interest. Darcy turned towards her and was about to smile back when he saw her expression change to one of concern. He stopped and turned towards her.

"What is it?" He asked softly.

"I am afraid to ask, but how you must have suffered after what happened between us in Kent," she lightly brushed his cheek with her fingers. Darcy went pale but was quick to shake his head in negation, not wanting to worry her unnecessarily.

"You did," she said in a quiet voice, "I can see it in your eyes. How you must have blamed me, hated me." He sighed and took her hand in his.

"I felt the occourences of that day deeply, yes," he uttered gravely, "but I did not blame you. I was angry for a while but my feelings for you were too strong to be turned into something completely opposite of love. I tried to forget you, but failed miserably as everything in this world reminds me of you, is linked to you in some way. Believe this Elizabeth," he said earnestly, looking into her eyes, "your words opened my eyes to the flaws in my character and inspired me to improve myself."

"I feel like the luckiest woman in the world Fitzwilliam," her eyes were now glittering with tears, "that you chose **me.**" Darcy wanted to take her in his arms again, if only to console her , but they were in full view of the house so he just looked on at her with compassion. Just then Elizabeth took out something that looked like a letter from the pocket of her dress and held it out to him.

"What is it?" He took the letter and looked at it curiously.

"It is a letter, that I wrote to you last night," she said smiling, "to keep you company until you come to Hertfordshire."

"I thank you." Darcy said with feeling and carefully deposited the letter into his inner coat pocket and offered her his arm, and they quietly walked on till they reached the house, their minds full of each other, their hearts full of love.

**Next Chapter: A Temporary Separation**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews and sorry for the late update, was traveling.**

**Chapter 20: A Temporary Separation**

Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner waved at Georgiana and Mr. Darcy as the carriage drew away from Pemberley, Georgiana waved back whereas her brother stood there with a grave expression on his face. Elizabeth sighed as she turned away from them, Mr. Darcy's seriousness disturbing her, but then a thought occoured to her, _'he will cheer up once he reads my letter,'_ she smiled.

"I hope your time at Pemberley was pleasant," Mrs. Gardiner said eyeing Elizabeth carefully.

"Very much Aunt," she said eagerly, "indeed, pleasant does not even begin to describe it."

"So you are not sorry that we dragged you down to Pemberley against your will the day of our first visit here?" Mr. Gardiner's eyes twinkled at the memory of Elizabeth's reluctance to come.

"I cannot be more thankful that you did," she returned equally.

"And I believe you will enlighten us to the extent of your gratitude soon?" Her Aunt smiled knowingly at her and Elizabeth blushed.

"Very soon, I assure you," she smiled a little self-consciously and Mrs. Gardiner looked satisfied and fixed her eyes on the passing scenes of her beloved town.

It was late the next day that they reached Longbourn, the young Gardiners running out to meet them. The weary travelers welcomed enthusiastically by all but Lydia, who herself had arrived a week prior to them. Elizabeth looked around the comfortable but small parlour done in beige and coral, it felt good to be home before settling down in her favourite chair beside Jane.

"And how was your time at Brighton Lydia," Elizabeth asked amiably after everyone got settled down.

"It was heavenly," her young face acquired a dreamy look which was quickly replaced with a scowl, "but Papa called me home so early."

"Indeed, I am vastly displeased with your father," her mother shrieked, "calling dear Lydia back when she was having such a pleasant time with the officers."

"Mama, Col. Forster's wife was to go to her mother's place," Jane tried to reason with her mother, "and Lydia could not possibly stay on without her."

"Oh we could all have moved there, if it were not for dear Jane's wedding," Mrs. Bennet frowned and smiled by turns.

"Is your wedding gown ready yet, Jane?" Mrs. Gardiner tried to diffuse the mounting tension by directing Mrs. Bennet's attention to her favourite topic and true to her spirit Mrs. Bennet elaborated on the gown's exquisiteness, elegance and her own _tremblings and flutterings _at first beholding it. After dinner Jane and Elizabeth repaired to their own room where Elizabeth quickly grabbed her arm and brought her to sit with her on her bed.

"Jane, I have the most amazing news to tell you," she turned her glowing face towards her.

"Why what is it Lizzy?" Jane smiled at her enthusiasm.

"You will not believe me," Elizabeth tilted her head impishly.

"Do tell, you know I cannot abide being in suspense," Jane pleaded.

"Well then you would be pleased to know that your darling sister comes back from Derbyshire an engaged women," Elizabeth chuckled at the end, her happiness spilling out in mirth.

"To whom?" Jane fairly jumped.

"To Mr. Darcy of course," Elizabeth uttered as if it was the only possible answer.

"What?" Jane's shriek rivaled that of Mrs. Bennet's at the height of her nerves. Elizabeth just smiled smugly.

"What do you mean Lizzy? Jane was all astonishment, "did you meet him in Derbyshire?"

"Meet him?" Elizabeth smiled condescendingly at her innocent sister, "why I lived at his house for a week."

"Lizzy, I beg you, do be serious," Jane's eyes were widening with alarming rapidity at each revelation, "tell me everything." And so Elizabeth told her about how she met him at Pemberley, and how she came to stay there when her Aunt was called away sooner than expected and finally about her time there.

"But Lizzy," Jane still looked perplexed, "do you love him?" she asked taking Elizabeth's hand.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied simply, "I would never have accepted him otherwise Jane."

"But do you not think it all happened very fast?" Jane persisted.

"No Jane," Elizabeth squeezed her hand and shook her head, "my love for him was not the work of a moment. It was as if I had been waiting to fall in love with him ever since I read his letter," she left Jane's hand, got up and walked to the hearth. "And things just kept happening after that," she said thinking about her time in London, "until I saw him at Pemberley," she turned towards Jane and the fire in her eyes was visible for all to see, Jane was captivated, "and then I knew, I knew that he was the only man I could ever love and my feelings kept deepening until I could not wait for him to declare himself." She smiled in a far off way then, staring at the empty hearth, "and when he did," she sighed, "at last when he did Jane, it was as though all my life got arrested in that one perfect moment." She turned towards her sister again, "and in that moment Jane, I felt as though the amount of longing, passion and love his eyes expressed for me was enough to last me for a lifetime." Jane got up and walked towards her.

"I do believe that you love him Lizzy," Jane looked at her with understanding, "but do you love him as much as he loves you?"

"How is one to know that?" Elizabeth asked a little hotly, "do you love Mr. Bingley as much as he loves you?"

"Yes," Jane said quietly, "because we have gone through the same amount of heartache and uncertainty, whereas in your case, all the agony of rejection, the loneliness of separation and the misery of unrequited love has been his, you have only had the pleasure of loving and the happiness and satisfaction of being cherished above all."

"I might not have felt the pain of a love that is lost, but I **have **felt the deepest stirrings of love for him," Elizabeth said after staying quiet for some moments, Jane's words had taken her back to when he had kissed her in the library, his embrace had been both gentle and fierce at the same time, as if he wanted to impart all the pent up love inside him, to her but was afraid that she might get hurt. "Yes, maybe right now he loves me more than I love him, but just because my love is novel as compared to his, it does not mean that it is any less profound."

"No indeed," Jane smiled at her vehemence, "and knowing your passionate nature, I can safely assume that it would not be long before your feelings will deepen even more than his. Now tell me about how he proposed." Elizabeth smiled and walked back to her bed, throwing herself on it.

"Well it was rather scandalous," Elizabeth's eyes twinkled at the memory.

"What did you do Elizabeth Bennet?" Jane's eyes widened again.

"Me?" Elizabeth feigned disdain, "I did not do anything. It was him, all him. He saw me tracing his portrait with my fingers so he pushed me against the wall and kissed me passionately." Elizabeth was thoroughly enjoying Jane's shocked countenance.

"You lie Lizzy, he would never do that," Jane said disbelievingly.

"Wouldn't he?" Elizabeth giggled. "Well he did. But wait, I am confusing two different events. I believe that he only proposed to me in the portrait gallery followed by a light kiss, the passionate kisses against the wall came afterwards, in the library."

"How many times did he kiss you Lizzy?" Jane was beet red now and about to fall off her bed.

"I cannot say darling," Elizabeth sighed dreamily, "it is difficult to say when one kiss ends and the other begins, not to mention that the mind becomes too foggy to register the number."

"You are shameless Lizzy," Jane threw her pillow at her, but Elizabeth's grin only widened.

"Maybe," she shrugged, "but being coy is highly overrated," and then gave herself up to the dreams of her fiancée.

…**..**

"She said yes," Darcy turned towards Georgiana as soon as the carriage disappeared around the bend, his face aglow with new found happiness, "we are engaged."

"Oh William," Georgiana took both his hands in hers, her excitement and happiness shining through her, "oh I am so happy, so unbelievably happy for you, she is a wonder."

"That she is," he conceded as he placed her arm in the crook of his, leading her towards the rose garden, "and it is a wonder she ever said yes."

"Tell me how you proposed, did you get down on one knee, where were you, come to think of it, when did all this happen and why did you not tell me before?" She glared at him with mock displeasure.

"Calm down dearest and do remember to breathe," he smiled at her enthusiasm, "here are your answers; I proposed like anyone else would, by asking her to marry me and…" Georgiana quickly cut him here.

"How unromantic William," she frowned, "but do go on."

"You should be glad I had the courage to ask her, now no more interruptions," he looked at her sternly. "So I asked her to marry me, yes I did get down but not on one knee but both, for added persuasive effect, we were in the portrait gallery and it happened yesterday morning. We did not tell you because you would have given it away in front of the Gardiners and we want to keep it quiet until I ask Elizabeth's father." They entered the garden and sat down on the bench in the shade.

"This is the happiest day of my life William," Georgiana looked at him with teary eyes, "at long last Pemberley would become a home." Darcy smiled contentedly at her as they discussed plans for the future.

Once in his room, he quickly took out the letter that Elizabeth had given him. His eyes lovingly slipping on her small but neat handwriting. Each word warmed his heart each phrase pleased his senses, she had such a way with words, it was as though they were clay in her hands and she had moulded them to perfection. The expression of the letter was such that Darcy simply had to add the quality of eloquence to one of her many virtues. It did not leave him in any doubt of how deeply she felt for him, how much loved he was by her and to be loved with such passion by such a woman as her was certainly intoxicating. He sighed and placed the letter back in his pocket after reading it thrice, determining once again to give her every happiness she deserved.

The next few days were fairly hectic as Darcy had a lot of loose ends to tie before he went to London as he did not know when he would be able to come back. After sorting the matters of the crop and the tenants out, he and Georgiana came to London where Mrs. Annesley was to join them in a couple of days to keep Georgiana company until Darcy came back to get her for the wedding.

After coming back to the town, the first thing Darcy did was to ask Bingley's permission to visit him at Netherfield, and his second task was to apply for the special license for his marriage to Elizabeth. During all this bustle of settling things, his mind did not drift off his beloved even for a second, she was in his every waking thought, he kept her precious letter with him all the time and read it every day. So when Bingley's reply came, he was off to Netherfield within a day, galloping at full speed on Hermes with the first light of dawn.

**Next Chapter: The Accident**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21: The Accident**

Elizabeth had risen with the early morning sun, and after having a light breakfast had immediately set out for a morning walk into the woods near Longbourn. She had been feeling restless and agitated for a few days now, '_just because I told him to come after a fortnight, did not mean that he could not have come a day or two earlier," _she removed her bonnet and huffed. She had missed Darcy when she initially came back to Hertfordshire, but the constant commotion in the house for the upcoming wedding had kept her mind on other things as well, but as the time of his arrival approached, she felt that she could hardly wait anymore.

She reached a clearing in the trees, illuminated by the now rapidly rising sun. Elizabeth inhaled the rich smell that lingered in the woods after rain, but yesterday's rain was no ordinary rain, she frowned, it was a full blown storm and she had spotted a few fallen tree branches on her walk shrugged and was about to move ahead when she heard rapid footsteps and turned around to find Mr. Darcy going into the general direction of Longbourn, oblivious to her presence.

"Fitzwilliam," she shouted as she ran towards him, her heart soaring at the sight of him. He halted in mid-stride and turned towards her with utter joy on his face as he took quick steps to reach her, she collided against his hard chest as he promptly grabbed her by the waist and picked her off the ground.

"I thought you would never come," she wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder, taking advantage of the height that being picked up by a tall man had provided her with.

"But I came two days earlier than you told me to," his voice sounded confused.

"And do you always do as told?" She asked turning her mouth towards his neck and blowing on it to rile him.

"I need to see you Elizabeth," he ignored her question, his voice deepening, "would you not turn towards me?" He started moving towards the clearing. Elizabeth slowly raised her head off his shoulder to look at him, his handsome features were overspread with love and longing, she breathed deeply as her heart started beating faster.

"How do you manage to look more beautiful every time I see you?" He asked her huskily, his gaze drinking her in, holding hers imprisoned. She looked down into his eyes, lower for once, than hers, and saw a flame kindling there. He had stopped in the middle of the clearing and they were both bathed in sunlight and love. Elizabeth lowered her head and started dropping slow, lingering kisses on his forehead, his eyes and his cheeks, she felt his grip tightening around her body. She was amazed at her own audacity, but her yearning for him was too compelling in that moment.

"What have you done to me?" She asked him dazedly.

"Do you want me Elizabeth?" He whispered near her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, "as much as I want you?" Elizabeth looked at his handsome countenance, her lids half closed and dimly registered a storm building up in his eyes as he lowered her to the ground. "Do you ever go mad with desire at the thought of mapping my body with your hands?" He slowly moved his hands down her back as she felt the heat seep in through the layers of her clothes and relished in it, "dipping in every nook and cranny, tracing every plane and curve," he said as his hands lowered themselves to below her back, held firmly and then pressed her to him, Elizabeth's eyes closed as she lost herself in the spell that his words were casting.

"Do you ever dream of my lips," his hand came up to cup her cheek and his thumb stroked her lips, not being able to resist any more she kissed it softly, "touching," his lips briefly touched hers, his hand dropping to her waist, "tasting," his tongue softly stroked her upper lip, "nipping," he continued as he gave her lower lip a soft bite, "and devouring yours?" His voice got thicker as he pulled her impossibly tight against his chest, his lips close to hers but not touching, testing Elizabeth's limits. Her breath came out in gasps now as her hands wound around his neck and unsuccessfully tried to bring his head down to hers.

"Have you ever craved the sensation of feeling my body against yours," he moved back a little and slipped her coat down her arms till it fell to the ground, "without any barrier?" Elizabeth gasped as the cold air hit her, but Mr. Darcy's arms quickly engulfed her in a crushing embrace.

"Hmm," she moaned and his lips were upon her, touching, tasting, nipping and devouring. Elizabeth was now kissing him back in abandon, moaning whenever their lips parted and arching into him whenever he deepened the kisses.

"Is this passion all for me Elizabeth?" He asked breathlessly, his lips at the base of her neck.

"Yes," she panted, "oh yes," as he nipped it enticingly. He raised his head as she opened her eyes and saw his face with a heightened colour and an expression of sheer yearning on it. Elizabeth crushed her lips to his, wanting to give him whatever he longed for. His hands were now touching her all over her body, sending tingling tremors through her veins.

"What is it my love?" He drew away a little to look at her, "why do you tremble so, are you cold?" The deep concern in his eyes, touched a cord deep with in her.

"No," she blushed and averted her eyes, _'how to tell him that she trembled with desire.'_

"Come," he let go of her completely and stooped to pick up her spencer. "Wear this." Elizabeth obediently slipped her arms into it as Mr. Darcy buttoned it up for her.

"Let us sit over there," he pointed towards a bench that was put there by the previous owner of Netherfield as he liked to sit in this particular clearing.

"Do you not want to kiss me anymore?" She mocked, hoping inside that he would again.

"It is not just kissing that I want," she looked up to find him staring intensely at her, as they walked towards the bench.

"Have we not done almost everything else too?" Her mind shifted to how he had kissed her neck and she felt hot all over again.

"Oh my poor innocent," he looked adoringly at her as he helped her, unnecessarily, to seat herself at the bench, "We have not even begun to do **anything else **yet." Elizabeth blinked, as he sat beside her.

**…..**

Darcy sat down beside Elizabeth but at some distance, his breathing had still not returned to normal. Elizabeth's innocent question had shown him that passionate though she was, there was not much she knew about the relationship between a husband and wife and he wanted it to remain so till they got married, _'then I_ _will teach her myself,'_ he thought excitedly, but then frowned, his own knowledge of such matters was also limited to some rather elaborate books in Pemberley's library, a few second hand tales, heard mostly at Cambridge and some ridiculous stories of seduction narrated at length and with pride by Richard. Worldly as he was, his information regarding the amorous activities was strictly superficial, _'and it is because of that,' _he suddenly realized, _'that I cannot control myself, or maybe,' _he eyed the woman sitting right next to him, with lips swollen and moist from the unleashed ardour he had just subjected them to, _'Elizabeth had awoken the passion that was dormant before I met her.' _That thought relaxed him, surely he could never feel so alive, so zealous with any other woman.

"Why are you frowning so?" She reached between his eyebrows and smoothed his frown. Darcy grabbed her hand as she was retrieving it.

"I was thinking about how you make me come alive," he clasped her hands between both of his.

"And that gave you cause to frown?" She raised her eyebrow and turned a little towards him.

"No indeed," he said slowly stroking her hand, "I am however of the opinion that we should probably not…err…be so close…um…as we were today."

"Why?" It was her turn to frown now.

"We must maintain a suitable distance till we are man and wife, Elizabeth," he squeezed her hand a little, "it is important, you must trust me in this."

"And when will **that** be?" She asked petulantly, removing some hair off her forehead, a slow breeze had started.

"I would not be able to wait any longer, but since eloping is not an option, we can have a double wedding with Bingley and Miss Bennet," he suggested, "if they do not mind of course."

"They would not," Elizabeth immediately brightened up, "it is decided then, we shall have an October wedding." She smiled up at him, her beautiful eyes reflecting the rays of the sun.

"Well then, all that remains to be done is for me to ask your father's consent," he was about to stand up when she pulled him back.

"It is still early," she said, "let us stay and talk some more before we leave."

"Alright, what do you want to talk about?" He asked playfully, drawing nearer despite his earlier resolve to maintain a distance.

"We know each other well by now, but we hardly know the basics about one another," she wrinkled her sweet little nose in an endearing way. Darcy tapped her nose with his index finger.

"Go on," he nodded for her to continue, "ask whatever you want to."

"Which colour do you like best?"

"On you?"

"No," she giggled, "which it is then?"

"Blue."

"Now ask me," she straightened her shoulders, her eyes twinkling.

"No need," Darcy shook his head, "I know you like green best."

"How did you know?" She asked, surprised.

"I observe," he returned smugly. Elizabeth huffed and folded her arms on her chest.

"So you know all my favourites?" She asked still pouting.

"Not all, but enough to make me a very good husband," he slipped nearer still and placed his arm casually on her shoulders.

"Tell me," Elizabeth turned her head to look up at him.

"Alright," he smiled indulgently at her, "you prefer a Capote to a Calash," he began.

"And how do you know so much about women's head wear?" She raised one eyebrow.

"I do have a younger sister if you remember," he raised his own eyebrow in reply.

"Oh yes, how is Georgiana?" She quickly asked about her soon to be sister, "and why has not she come with you? Come to think of it, when did you come?"

"You must learn to breathe between questions darling, and so does Georgie," he mocked, taking her excitement in, "she is fine, she will come later, when everything is settled and I arrived yesterday evening, sometime before the storm broke out."

"I am so glad you made it here before the storm started," she looked lovingly at him, "it was quite frightful." Darcy nodded but brought the discussion to something that was nagging at the back of his mind.

"I have a confession to make darling," he took her hand and pressed her fingers between his and began a little hesitatingly, "but you must promise that you would not be angry."

"I cannot promise that," she got a naughty twinkle in her eyes.

"Then I shall not say anything," he left her hand and folded his arms on his chest.

"Oh I shan't be mad, now do tell," she said quickly, "I cannot tolerate being in suspense, it makes me wretched."

"Do you remember that carriage ride from Lambton to Pemberley?" Darcy started again and looked cautiously at her and saw her mischievous expression change to that of understanding.

"Good God," she cried jumping a little, "you did it on purpose." Darcy had the grace to look abashed.

"Yes," he averted his eyes, "I do not know what possessed me," he said quietly. "I assure you I do not go around pressing my legs to ladies' calves in lonely carriage rides." He said in such grave tones that Elizabeth laughed out loud, the tinkering sound echoing in the woods.

"I did wonder, you know," she said after sobering up, "but I could not believe that the ever cautious Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy would ever stoop to such subterfuge." She was now smiling broadly.

"And what do you think now?" He relaxed at her laughing response.

"I think you are quite incorrigible," she looked sternly at him, "and my father would do well to give you a hard time before consenting."

"Do you think now would be a good time to go and talk to your father?" He asked somewhat anxiously.

"He will not refuse you Fitzwilliam," she lightly touched his arm and he marveled at how just a light touch from her could appease all his anxieties.

"So shall we go now?" He asked, unable to wait any longer.

"Alright," Elizabeth got up, but pushed him back as he tried to follow suit. "It would be better if you waited for some minutes before coming, I would go now and you can come afterwards."

"But," he started to say something but then understood that it would be better that way, "alright." She started walking towards the clearing where they had kissed, reached its centre and turned around. Darcy looked at her mesmerized, she looked somewhat otherworldly in that moment, her beautiful visage bathed in sunshine, sifting through the trees making her look like a spirit of the woods.

"The next time we meet," she called out as her eyes sparkled in the sun, reflecting its light, "I will truly be your fiancée." And then she smiled her infectious smile, that Darcy could not help but mirror.

But as it so often happens in life, hardly anything materializes as planned. Darcy heard the snap of breaking wood before he saw it fall. Just as his eyes rose up to see what was causing the leaves of an old oak to shuffle, one of its branches fell on the retreating figure of the happy woman, who had no thought but that of a long and happy life to come with the handsome man she had just left sitting on the bench.

"NOOOOOOOOO," a heart wrenching scream escaped his throat as all blood drained from his face. He jumped up and ran towards her stationary form lying next to the fateful branch, that had slipped a little way off after hitting her in the head.

"Elizabeth," he cried in sheer panic, patting her cheek, "Elizabeth, look at me," he choked out. "Please darling, do not leave me now." His voice died down as he saw his life slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

**Next Chapter: Memories Lost**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** Hello everyone, **first off** thanks for the reviews, they make my day, keep em coming. **Secondly,** I know that all of you want to know about Elizabeth's letter to Mr. Darcy, but it will not surface till much later in the story, it has to be that way. **Thirdly,** I thought it better not to prolong the after effects of Elizabeth's injury, as it might have taken up two or three chapters if I had. Therefore I have kept the whole thing simple.

**Chapter 22: Memories Lost**

Darcy woke up on the seventh day of Elizabeth's accident, alive with anticipation. Bingley had told him, after his visit to Longbourn yesterday, that she was much recovered now and was allowed by the doctor to be moved downstairs for a few hours in the morning, this news was music to Darcy's ears that had longed to hear of her, as after the first two days after her injury, Bingley decided not to visit in order to allow the family their privacy, and also because Miss Bennet was busy taking care of her sister and he did not want to hamper that with his presence.

Darcy removed the covers and stepped into his slippers, stood up and walked towards the window. He looked on towards the grounds of Netherfield Park stretching in front of him, without registering its beauty, his mind far away, on another morning not so long ago. He frowned, try as he might, he could not compel the image of the branch hitting her head out of his mind, it was the single most horrific incident of his life, he shuddered. How he had the presence of mind to pick her limp form up in his arms and carry her to Longbourn, he had no idea. But carry her, he did, and took her there as fast as he could, begging her to open her eyes all the way. He could scarcely remember what he told Mr. Bennet about how he came upon his daughter, to be honest, the man was so shocked at Elizabeth's condition that Darcy doubted he heard anything after the first word.

Darcy moved his fingers through his hair in an agitated manner, he could still feel the fear he had felt a week ago on that fateful morning. After depositing Elizabeth in her room, he had quietly taken his leave of the distraught family, not knowing how he would be able to bear the suspense of not knowing. He had met Bingley on his way back and told him briefly about what had happened and then gone on to Netherfield Park. The agony of those hours he had spent alone there had left him in no doubt that he would not be able to make it if anything happened to her. Fear had gripped his heart and clutched it in its merciless claws until he could not take the crushing pressure anymore, just then Bingley had come back with the news that she had come to, and was out of danger.

Oh the relief, the relief he had felt then, Darcy moved his hand across his face at the remembrance, had been obvious on his face, he had not been able to suppress the forceful exhalation of the breath he had been holding when his friend had come back, he did not care if Bingley knew then, _'indeed the whole world would know in a little more time,' _he had thought. And the way Bingley had clapped on his shoulder and offered him a glass of port with a look of understanding in his eyes showed him that he did in fact **know.**

And today he would see her after seven agonizing days, but that did not matter anymore, now that she was well and recovering fast according to the doctor. There was a knock on his dressing room door.

"Enter," he knew it would be his valet. He entered noiselessly and Darcy rose up to get ready. Some twenty minutes later he found himself in the breakfast parlour, excitement of seeing Elizabeth's lovely face again diminishing his appetite, but he still piled some eggs on his plate and sat back in his chair to get through with the breakfast as fast as possible, so they could be on their way to Longbourn, but where was Bingley? _'The man has an awful habit of sleeping in,' _Darcy thought impatiently.

He wondered if he would be able to have any moment alone with Elizabeth, as he desperately wanted to know if she thought it alright for him to ask her father for her hand today. His previous anxiety had evaporated away, now he was just impatient to have the interview with Mr. Bennet. He buttered his muffin as he thought of what Elizabeth's reaction to him would be today, she must be angry at him for not coming sooner, but even though she had given him every right, the society had yet to know about their love. His impatience grew as he took the last sip of his tea, and just then Bingley entered the parlour.

"Darcy, my man," he chirped, "all set for Longbourn, are we?" Darcy rolled his eyes.

In half an hour they were ready and on their way to Longbourn. Darcy could barely contain his excitement as they neared the walls that inhabited his beloved. The past week had seemed like an eternity to his mind with Elizabeth's health his chief concern, but he would be lying if he said that not being able to capture her beautiful eyes into his own had not kept him awake at night. As they entered Longbourn, he hoped that she would have arrived downstairs before them for every second had become seemingly endless and he was rather desperate for one look of her.

A buzz of conversation could be heard through the closed door of the Bennet's morning parlour. The maid opened the door and announced them, he slowly entered after Bingley, his heart pounding in his ears. Immediately after rising up from his bow he saw Bingley moving towards the window where Elizabeth was reclining on a couch. His starved eyes took her in with fervor, she looked a little paler than usual but healthy otherwise, yet something was amiss, the smile she gave Bingley did not reach her eyes and for some reason she refused to look towards Darcy himself. He frowned a little but then stepped towards her to ask after her health, she then turned her eyes to him and he almost blanched with the impact, there was no warmth, no greeting in them, she briefly nodded her head and abruptly turned away, as if she could not bear to look at him. Darcy went pale, _'what could be the meaning of this?' _He wondered. Miss Bennet asked him to take a seat and he sat next to Bingley, feeling slightly numb. And then Miss Lydia, in her loud voice, said something that totally flummoxed him,

"Lizzy, do you not remember Mr. Darcy? I thought you had only forgotten everything since April, when you went to Kent." Darcy looked up in shock and caught Elizabeth's eye, for some reason she looked a little embarrassed.

"Well there is no use hiding it," Mrs. Bennet wailed, "everyone will find out soon enough that my Lizzy has no recollection of anything that happened after April, oh my nerves, my poor nerves."

It was as if the sky had fallen on Darcy. The two words Kent and April made frantic rounds of his mind like a caged bird longing to be set free. This was not true, this could not be true, he looked towards Elizabeth but she was resolutely avoiding his eyes. _'What is happening?' _Something inside him shouted, _'why would Elizabeth not look at me?' _He was at his wit's end when suddenly Miss Bennet asked him if he would like to go out for a walk, he nodded and getting up offered her his arm, she took it and they went out by the front door.

Once outside he took a deep breath and turned towards Miss Bennet, she was walking towards a bench in the corner with downcast eyes.

"Miss Bennet I…," here he faltered, and did not know how to go on.

"Mr. Darcy, I know what you want to ask, " she looked kindly at him as they approached the bench and stopped, "but I think you need to sit down for what I am about to tell you."

…

Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly, the light still hurt every time she did but they soon adjusted to the dimly lit room. _'It must be night,' _she thought. The outline of Jane's figure materialized into her vision as she looked around, she was sleeping on a huge chair placed near her bed. _'Poor Jane,' _she had seen Jane in the same position ever since she regained consciousness. She closed her eyes again, her head pounding.

A tree branch had fallen on her head, while she was out for a morning walk almost a week ago, Jane had told her. She had stayed comatose for approximately ten hours before she regained consciousness. Dr. Jones was summoned in the meanwhile, and he had rubbed some ointment on her head. There was surprisingly no blood, but the spreading bruise visible on the skin of her head led the doctor to believe that the injury was internal, and for some hours they had all been afraid of the worst. But then she had regained consciousness and their worst fears were put to rest.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and shifted a little uncomfortably in the bed, and then turned on her side, facing the wall. While regaining consciousness had dispelled the fears for her life, it had brought another unpleasant discovery to the fore, she had no memory of what had happened since April. She recalled the horror on Jane's face when Elizabeth had asked her what she was doing in Kent. Her mother, obviously had assumed that Elizabeth had gone barmy but the good doctor had dispelled any apprehensions on that head, stating that sometimes the victims of a head injury did not immediately remember the recent happenings in their lives. According to him, Elizabeth was suffering from selective amnesia, she had lost the memories from a specific time period, that is from end of April to start of September. There was nothing to be worried about, he had assured her father, since there was no talking to her mother, Elizabeth would regain her memories in some months.

Elizabeth, was slowly on the mend, since she had not suffered any major injuries besides the one to her head, there were however, a few bruises, but they were already fading. She had gotten weary of staying in bed, so when yesterday the doctor said that she could go downstairs and sit with everyone, she felt overjoyed and was desperately waiting for the sun to come up to do just that.

She was not particularly worried over her lost memories, her only lament was her final memory being of that horrid proposal by the equally horrid Mr. Darcy. She winced at the memory of that evening, _'if only I had forgotten all about that hateful man,' _she thought ruefully about the man who had latched himself on her every waking moment. Try as she might, there was no getting away from the image of Mr. Darcy pacing about the small parlour at the Parsonage, deprecating her family, showing no remorse for Mr. Wickham's plight or that of dear Jane's and being as haughty as he ever was. Every word, every phrase of his was as fresh in her mind as if it had happened yesterday and not four and a half months ago, and yet she could not remember what she was doing out in the woods before the accident.

She raised her hand to touch her scalp, it did not hurt so much now, and the doctor had assured her that she would regain her health in no time. She was glad that all her sisters had come and kept her company, relating anecdotes that did not involve herself as the doctor had strictly forbidden everyone to tell her anything from the time she could not account for, except in general terms. The reason he gave for this was that, the narration of any lost memory might cause her shock or strain that may result in a fit, which could cause more harm than good, he also warned that if she heard all of the things that happened in the past from other people, her mind might create artificial memories of its own, thereby hindering the process of remembrance considerably.

Jane had told her that she came to London after leaving Kent and stayed there for a week, but did not say what she did while there, Elizabeth supposed she might have gotten some books and ribbons. She also told her that after staying awhile at home Elizabeth had gone to Derbyshire with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, and had told her family, on her return, that the trip had been very enjoyable, Elizabeth thought Jane was trying not to cry at one point, which was a bit odd to be sure, but she did not comment. Jane also confessed that Elizabeth had confided in her about Mr. Darcy's proposal, and again Elizabeth thought she could see her sister's beautiful blue eyes swimming with tears, but did not pay any mind to it, attributing it to Jane's soft heart, being hurt by Mr. Darcy's callous remarks.

But the most surprising revelation was that Jane was now engaged to Mr. Bingley, and delighted as she was with the news, the excitement gave her quite a severe headache, which scared dear Jane off and she withheld any further information that she wanted to give. But Elizabeth was satisfied, to see Jane about to be united with her love was something Elizabeth had not seen coming, _'so Mr. Bingley did come for Jane, despite what his friend might have said to dissuade him,' _she thought and felt proud of Mr. Bingley's perseverance. She closed her eyes again and dimly registered that it had started to rain, feeling tired, she went to sleep with nothing but the dream of sitting in the parlour on her mind.

The morning came bright and early and Elizabeth was helped down the stairs by Mr. Bennet and Mary, Jane being busy preparing the couch by the window facing the front lawn.

"Now Lizzy," Mr. Bennet turned towards his favourite daughter after settling her on the couch in the front parlour of Longbourn's ground floor, "even though you are allowed downstairs, you are not yet allowed to do anything that could prove to be stressful for your eyes." He then proceeded with twinkling eyes, "you may perhaps want to delay any decorative plans you might have for your bonnets." Elizabeth chuckled at this, her father was aware of her dislike of adorning bonnets.

"I assure you Papa," she dimpled at him, "that thought was the farthest from my mind."

"Well then," he moved towards the door, "I will leave you to it," and departed for his library.

"When is Mr. Bingley coming, Jane?" Elizabeth asked, "I wish to congratulate him on your engagement again, since I have now forgotten what I said the last time," she pouted, "and the doctor would not let anyone tell me anything."

"You do not need to bother about it Lizzy," Jane sat beside her as Lydia and Kitty giggled in the corner on some shared secret of theirs. "You did congratulate him and that is all that matters."

"La Lizzy," cried Lydia hearing her two elder sisters, "you cannot go on doing everything you did in the past four months just because you have forgotten all about it, though it would be so much fun if you did."

Elizabeth smiled and turned towards Jane who had moved to the window from her side and was now anxiously peeking outside. Elizabeth frowned, Jane had been acting a little strange since this morning, fidgeting about, looking worried for some reason. And now she was standing near the window looking outside with every evidence of some apprehension on her face. _'Surely, waiting for Mr. Bingley cannot be that worrisome,' _she mused. She shook her head and turned towards Mrs. Bennet who was going on and on about something.

"Well I never liked the man," Mrs. Bennet screeched, "but since he brought Lizzy home and saved her life, therefore I am determined to be civil to him."

"Who do you mean Mama?" Elizabeth looked at her in confusion, "who brought me home?"

"Why, Mr. Darcy of course," Mrs. Bennet scowled at her, "I do not know what Mr. Jones means by insisting on no treatment for you dear Lizzy, when you have evidently lost your wits," she sighed.

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth was horrified, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and looked towards Jane, "did he really?"

"Yes," Jane nodded, "he had come here on Mr. Bingley's invitation one day before your accident, and was out for a morning walk when he saw you, and then very kindly carried you home," she explained in her usual soft tones.

"Why was I not told about this before?" Elizabeth was getting agitated now, a vein in her temple had begun to throb. Jane took one more anxious look outside and then rushed to her side, "the doctor told us not to agitate you and…" Here she was most efficiently cut by Lydia.

"And we all know how you hate him Lizzy," she wagged her eyebrows. Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, to calm herself.

"He will come to check on you today with Mr. Bingley," Jane informed her cautiously, when she opened her eyes. Elizabeth did not say anything after that, she just quietly sat there seething. Her thoughts were in turmoil, she could not conceive the idea of a man as proud as Mr. Darcy was, would willingly visit the house of a woman who had spurned his proposal in no uncertain terms. She looked up and saw Jane observing her in compassionate silence.

"A lot of time has passed since April Lizzy," she uttered in low tones so as not to be overheard by anyone else in the room, "things are not as bad between the two of you as you think, dearest. Please do not agitate yourself on his account, he has been nothing but amiable…"

"Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy," the door was thrown open before Jane could finish her sentence and the two gentlemen entered, Mr. Bingley in the lead, followed closely by Mr. Darcy. Both of them bowed as all the ladies except Elizabeth stood up and curtseyed.

"How are you Miss Elizabeth?" Bingley quickly approached the invalid and Elizabeth promptly schooled her features into a smile, for her future brother.

"Much better, I thank you," she replied with a calmness that she was far from feeling in that moment as she could feel Mr. Darcy's intense gaze upon her and knew that she would have to acknowledge him now. _'He may choose to come here, but he will not be welcomed by me,' _she decided crossly and turned her defiant gaze towards him, but she was evidently not prepared for the jolt that went through her on catching his eye. Elizabeth was taken aback for a moment, Mr. Darcy's blue eyes were ablaze with some emotion, that she did not understand, as he took a step towards her.

"I hope you are much recovered Miss Elizabeth?" His words seemed straight forward enough but his voice seemed to be communicating something more than the mere words he had uttered. She gave a curt nod, and turned her head towards Mr. Bingley, who had taken a seat besides her and Jane, knowing that she was being rude but not being able to help it.

"Do have a seat Mr. Darcy," Jane looked kindly towards the tall man, he thanked her and seated himself besides Mr. Bingley.

"Lizzy, do you not remember Mr. Darcy?" Lydia's loud voice boomed in the small parlour, "I thought you had only forgotten everything since April, when you went to Kent." Elizabeth mortified, quickly looked up to see Mr. Darcy's eyes narrow and then widen, his shock unmistakable.

"Hush Lydia," Jane admonished, and then, to Elizabeth's surprise, turned her concerned gaze towards Mr. Darcy instead of her.

"Well there is no use hiding it," Mrs. Bennet wailed, "everyone will find out soon enough that my Lizzy has no recollection of anything that happened after April, oh my nerves, my poor nerves." Jane sighed, Lydia and kitty giggled, Mary cleaned her spectacles, Mr. Bingley gaped, Mr. Darcy stared and Elizabeth blushed, put like that, it really sounded embarrassing.

"Would you mind Lizzy, if I went out for a walk?" Jane quickly got up form her perch, Elizabeth thought it a good idea since Mr. Darcy was sure to accompany Jane and Mr. Bingley on their excursion outdoors, and she definitely did not want to continue in his oppressing company, indeed her heart had been beating unnecessarily fast ever since he had entered the room.

"No indeed," she smiled at her sister, "I have no wish to keep you and your fiancé cooped up inside on such a pleasant day, by all means, go outside and enjoy the sunshine."

"Actually, I was thinking that Mr. Bingley should keep you company in my absence since you and him have a lot to catch up on," Jane looked beseechingly at Mr. Bingley.

"We do?" Mr. Bingley's irises expanded a little, Elizabeth also felt a little perplexed.

"Indeed," Jane replied calmly, "Mr. Darcy," she then turned towards the quiet man, who had not said a word ever since the initial greetings. "Would you mind taking a turn about the garden with me? I believe we have a discussion, that we started in town, to continue." Elizabeth thought Mr. Darcy looked relieved as he got up and offered Jane his arm, which she took and they exited. _'A discussion in town, what is Jane on about?' _Elizabeth thought as anxiety built up inside her, feeling for the first time, that the memories she had lost might be important.

**Chapter 23: Darcy has a Setback and Elizabeth has a Flashback**


	23. Chapter 23

**Memory Reference: Chapter 1; where Darcy gives Elizabeth the letter.**

**Chapter 23: Darcy has a Setback and Elizabeth has a Flashback**

Darcy sat down on the bench facing away from Longbourn and looked up at the worried countenance of the still standing Miss Bennet with trepidation. There were a thousand questions that he needed to ask her, but held his peace since he wanted to hear what she had to tell him first, something in her expression warned him that it would not be good news. He braced himself for something ghastly, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to hear.

"Mr. Darcy," she opened a little hesitantly, "I wanted to talk to you about this before you entered the house, so as to prepare you for what awaited you inside but," here she stopped and sighed, "something distracted me and I did not see you arrive." Darcy simply nodded at her and gulped, finding it difficult to breathe, let alone talk.

"You heard what my mother said inside," she started again, "what she said…what she said is true Mr. Darcy."

"How do you mean?" He asked in a voice that sounded strange to even his own ears.

"As a result of the accident," Miss Bennet said with downcast eyes, "a certain nerve in Elizabeth's brain has been hurt in a way that, though not dangerous, has blocked certain memories from her conscious mind."

"I do not understand," he shook his head and looked at her with eyes slowly loosing the flame that Elizabeth's acceptance of his love had kindled there. Miss Bennet took a deep breath and continued again,

"She does not recall anything that happened after a certain day in April till the day of the accident."

"And which day would that be?" He asked, barely breathing, panic slowly mounting up inside his heart.

"The day you proposed to her," Miss Bennet replied in a voice barely above a whisper. Darcy paled, his heart clenched fiercely before slowing down to a deathly beat, he leaned back into the bench for support, finding it hard to breathe. Miss Bennet quickly slipped on the bench beside him.

"Mr. Darcy?" She called him worriedly, "are you alright?" This time Darcy did not even have the strength to nod.

"What has been done to treat this condition of hers?" He sat up, a sudden thought striking him, giving him hope, "I can send for the best physician in town."

"A friend of Dr. Jones, from town, who specializes in head injuries, has already been here once since she regained consciousness," Miss Bennet shook her head and told him, "he only reaffirmed what Dr. Jones had said."

"What **did** Dr. Jones say Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked in a low voice, wanting to know everything but fearing her answer as well.

"He said that due to some internal damage to the nerve, she has temporarily lost all recollection of a certain time period, but that is only short-term, in most cases, the patient regains all the lost memories in a few months," Miss Bennet sounded hopeful.

"In **most **cases, not all?" he asked again.

"Mr. Darcy," Miss Bennet said in a calming voice, "there is no reason to loose hope."

"Does she remember my letter?" He asked hesitantly, cursing himself for ever asking her to burn it.

"No," Miss Bennet replied simply, "and she burned it as soon as she came back, just as you asked her to." Darcy winced at this, and she continued, "but even if she had the letter Mr. Darcy, she could not have been allowed to read it."

"What do you mean?" Darcy sat up a little at this, his eyes narrowing, and turned completely towards her.

"The…the doctor has specifically forbidden us to narrate anything from her past to her except in the most general terms," Miss Bennet averted her eyes from him.

"But why?" He almost cried out loud but toned his voice down a little.

"He says that this could agitate her, resulting in a fit or a seizure, which could be perilous" she extinguished another hope that Darcy had harboured in the past few minutes. "He, however, has allowed us to impart as much as we think suitable after six months have elapsed, as by then her mind would be strong enough to handle any revelation. He also has another reason to stop us from telling her everything, he is of the opinion that if she heard about her past from us, then her mind will create artificial memories based on that and she might never regain her true memories."

"You must know Miss Bennet, that I would never do anything to endanger her health, but can we not tell her that she…that we…that…," he could not complete the sentence and just looked pleadingly at her.

"Oh Mr. Darcy," Miss Bennet's hand went to his shoulder of its own accord, "you have to understand that right now she, that is to say that Elizabeth…she …she knows that she has lost some part of her memory, but the freshest memory in **her **mind is that of you…you…and…her…at the Hunsford Parsonage." Darcy's eyes clouded as his head dropped to his hands. When he did not reply or raise his head, she continued,

"Her feelings for you, right now, are…not…very friendly. She got agitated merely at the mention of your name today, and the mention of you saving her life…was…a little distressing to her as well. Her feelings right now are such that…that she would not be able to take in the change of emotion she has gone through in the past few months. It would indeed be a enormous shock for her to know that she is actually engaged to the man that she…she…supposedly…does not think…very highly of. Mr. Darcy you must understand that her heart is yours, even if she does not remember it yet, she will soon. Right now Elizabeth needs just one thing from you, and I ask it on her behalf," she stopped and watched as he raised his head and looked at her with lifeless eyes.

"Anything," he whispered.

"Your patience, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bennet dropped her hand off his shoulder as he slowly nodded. "With the passage of time, her heart will soften towards you, indeed I will help her understand you in the light of what happened in these past few months, she will see you for who you truly are, and then, if she has not regained her memory till that time, we will tell her." She stopped and inhaled deeply, "but until then, you must maintain a distance from her, give her time and all will be well, I promise."

"Yes," Darcy said with unseeing eyes, and stood up abruptly, "I will go away, right now." Miss Bennet stood up as well, he could see tears brimming in her eyes.

"Mr. Darcy, this is not the end," she beseeched him, "please do not loose hope, Elizabeth loves you so much, she just does not know it." He nodded again.

"Should I still come to the wedding?" He asked her, with no trace of hope.

"Of course," she cried, a tear slipping down, "I am not trying to drive a wedge between the two of you Mr. Darcy, indeed I want you to come on Mr. Bingley's behalf as much as Elizabeth's, it will do you two good to see each other when she has calmed down a bit, which I am sure that she should have done by then." Darcy stared at her for a second and then offered her his handkerchief, to wipe the few tears rolling down her cheeks. She took it and dabbed at them softly.

"I thank you Miss Bennet," he tried to smile but managed only to grimace, "you are a good soul. I will say good bye then." He almost turned to leave when Miss Bennet suddenly caught his sleeve and then dropped it quickly. Darcy looked at her questioningly.

"Would you not say good bye to Elizabeth?" She asked hesitantly.

"I would not want to agitate her," he said thoughtfully, "but of course I cannot leave without taking my leave of your family." And then he went back to the house with Miss Bennet, to bid adieu to the woman who, if fate had permitted, by now would have been his fiancée. They entered the parlour to see that Elizabeth had gotten up from her seat by the window, Miss Bennet quickly ran to her side.

"Lizzy, are you alright?" She asked as Darcy looked on worriedly.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, "I just feel a bit tired, I think I will adjourn to my room now."

"I shall take you there, in a moment," Miss Bennet told her softly, "Mr. Darcy has come to say good bye, he is leaving for town today." Darcy could see surprise mixed with relief on her face and his heart broke anew, that she could ever be relieved at his absence, was most painful to him.

"I would like to thank you for you hospitality Mrs. Bennet before I leave," he turned towards the twittering woman who quickly stood up with the rest of her daughters.

"There is no need I assure you Mr. Darcy," she shrieked, "you would always be welcome here as Lizzy's saviour and Mr. Bingley's friend, of course." Darcy bowed towards her and the three girls standing up with her and turned towards Miss Bennet.

"Bingley tells me that you are planning a trip to London in a few days," he tried to sound normal, but found it impossible to smile, she nodded. "You must know that you would be most welcome at my house there, indeed my sister is most anxious to make your acquaintance."

"I thank you Mr. Darcy," she smiled warmly at him, "I would be delighted to meet Miss Darcy when I am in town." And then she offered him her hand. Darcy took a step closer to her, took her hand and bowed over it. As he straightened up he caught Elizabeth's eyes and try as he may, he could not look away. She probably thought that he was expecting her to offer him her hand as well, so she sighed and raised her hand for him to take. For a moment, Darcy was perplexed, but then he quickly took her soft hand in a gentle grip, bowed over it, his heart in his throat, and was about to let go when he felt her shudder and tighten her grip, astonished, he looked up to see her grow pale and sway a little on her feet before she stumbled forward and the next moment her forehead was on his chest, her hands clutching the lapels of his coat. Darcy's heart beat increased with worry as he faintly registered the cries of "oh no she has fainted again," and "has she fainted again?" He grabbed her arms and took her to the couch that she was previously stationed at. Miss Bennet was by his side immediately.

"She has not fainted has she Mr. Darcy?" She asked anxiously as Bingley looked on in worry.

"No," he spoke with difficulty, not knowing the cause of her sudden weakness but dreading it to be himself. He laid her down tenderly and stepped away with a heavy heart, allowing her sisters to flock around her. Bingley quickly approached him and they both moved towards the door just as the maid entered and announced,

"Dr. Jones." Darcy, heaved a sigh of relief, his worried gaze affixed to Elizabeth's pale countenance.

"Oh Doctor," Mrs. Bennet wailed, "Thank the Lord, you are here. The silly child has gone and fainted again." Dr. Jones nodded and stepped towards the patient. Elizabeth's eyelids fluttered as she tried to speak.

"Do not agitate yourself Miss Elizabeth," he told her gently.

"I am alright," she said in a barely audible voice, "I just felt a little weak, is all," and she half opened her eyes.

"Is it normal doctor," Bingley asked from near the door, "for her to feel faint like she did just now?"

"Yes," he nodded, taking Elizabeth's pulse, "we have to remember that she is not yet fully recovered and any commonplace thing might agitate her." The rest of the Bennets bombarded the doctor with questions as Darcy turned towards Bingley.

"Bingley, I must leave now," Bingley opened his mouth to say something, but Darcy held up his hand, "no, you should stay here and support the Bennets in their time of need, I will see you when you get home and we will talk then." Bingley nodded and Darcy stepped towards the door and took one last parting look at her as she laid on the couch listening to her mother's admonitions with forbearance. He turned away and went out with a heart already breaking apart.

Darcy made his way blindly through the woods between Longbourn and Netherfield, not knowing where he was going, his mind numb to the rest of the world, his ears ringing with the voice of Miss Bennet telling him how he had to stay away from his **life.**

_'She does not recall anything that happened after a certain day in April…the day you proposed to her._

_'Can this be true'_, he wondered as he found himself at the very spot where he had seen her lovely self a week ago, _'how could she not remember it, any of it.'_ He stood in the middle of the clearing, sunshine reaching him through the trees, the gash in his heart bleeding profusely.

"How could this happen to me?" He said in a hollow voice as he fell on his knees to the ground, "twice."

His heart had already been ripped apart, mercilessly, once, and he had gotten over it, or at least tried to, until she came floating back into his world, saying things that made his soul melt, professing a love that he had long waited for, claiming devotion that he had given up every hope of. He had scarcely believed that her love for him was not a mirage when it was wrenched away from him in a cruel act of fate. His fingers dug into his raven hair and pulled, but he felt no pain, how could a small tug at his hair hurt him when his very soul was on pricks and needles.

What ruthless game were the fates playing with him, he stood up on unsteady feet, how could he be given the taste of heaven in one instant and then be thrown into the dark and brutal depths of hell in the next? A dead weight had settled in the pit of his stomach when he walked towards the bench he had sat on with Elizabeth as they had made plans for their future. _'Will there ever be a future where they will be together?' _He wondered as he slumped down on it. It seemed as though an eternity had passed since he had stood in the middle of the woods and partaken in her sweet passion, all he wanted to know now was that will it ever happen again? Miss Bennet had told him to hope, but how easy it was to say a thing but how difficult to do it.

Hope does not come easy when your beloved's eyes are shooting daggers at you, when the mere mention of your name agitates her, when your nearness makes her faint with disgust. He shuddered, at the thought of Elizabeth's hatred for him, _'oh God, anything but that, please do not make her hate me,' _he pleaded looking up in the skies.

He looked on at the leaves clapping in the wind, the birds chirping around him and the slow breeze caressing his face, without noticing any of the nature's beauty. _' Right now Elizabeth needs just one thing from you…your patience,' _Miss Bennet had told him, but what if while he was out being patient, she falls in love with someone else? _'No,' _he sat up, _'he will not let this happen.' _ Darcy straightened his shoulders and stood up, moving towards Netherfield.

He would give her anything she needs, if its patience, he will give it, if its time, he will give it, if its his life, he will willingly give that too, but by God he would not give up his claim on her. Darcy clenched his fingers into a fist and promised himself something, he would not make a move towards her until she was fully recovered, he would keep away for as long as it takes, he would die every day of their separation but he would not surrender, he would wait for her till she was ready, but she was his and he would make her love him again, he would win her heart and really, he thought perking up for the first time that day, how difficult could it be, after all, it already belonged to **him.**

…

Elizabeth curiously looked out the window to where Mr. Darcy and Jane were moving towards the old bench in the corner and wondered at Jane's forbearance for no one could willingly want to spend time with so unpleasant a man. Mrs. Bennet and the younger girls were quizzing Mr. Bingley about some ball that he had promised to give for his bride-to-be, Elizabeth's attention was again drawn outside to the two people who went out for a walk but were doing anything but.

Mr. Darcy was now sitting down on the bench, his broad back turned towards the house and Jane was standing in front of him, saying something. Once or twice she could feel his head nodding but they were too far away to ascertain any expressions that might have passed their faces. Suddenly Jane sat down beside Mr. Darcy as he relaxed into the bench, words were exchanged again and then for some reason Mr. Darcy had hung his head and Jane, Elizabeth frowned as she saw Jane's hand reach up to his shoulder, _'surely, there can be no occasion for such familiarity,' _she thought in confusion and turned around to see if Mr. Bingley had seen it, his eyes just seemed to be returning from the scene outside, and as they met hers, she could spot an incredible sadness in them.

Elizabeth felt a sudden pang of unease as she turned her eyes back on the scene being played outside. Mr. Darcy was now offering Jane his handkerchief which she took and dabbed her eyes with it, but did not return it. Elizabeth quickly looked away, her agitation mounting as a sharp pain shot through her head.

"…met her…when…the grove," Lydia was narrating some anecdote or other to Kitty in her customary loud accents, Elizabeth looked on without registering much, "…said…honour…read the letter…,"

Lydia's words sounded strangely familiar to Elizabeth, as if it was something she had seen first hand. The pain in her head increased as she suddenly stood up, just then Jane entered the parlour with Mr. Darcy. She quickly approached Elizabeth, worried for her health, but Elizabeth reassured her that she was fine. Mr. Darcy was leaving for town just then, and the surprised expression on Mr. Bingley's face told Elizabeth that this was a new development, but she was relieved for it nonetheless. He bid adieu to her mother and then came towards her and Jane, taking Jane's hand and bowing over it. Elizabeth could not help but be surprised at the rapport he seemed to be sharing with her sister.

He straightened up and looked right into Elizabeth's eyes, the expression, like Lydia's words earlier, looked familiar to her, as if she had looked into his eyes and seen the same anguish there before. Mesmerized, she raised her hand for him to take, not knowing why she did that, for a second it looked as though he would not take it, but he did, gently taking her delicate fingers into his strong ones. Her hand tingled, as unbidden words echoed in her ears,

_'I have been walking in the grove for sometime…do me the honour of reading this?'_

Everything around her darkened, she held onto his hand tightly as the room began to spin, she could feel herself outside, in a grove, a hand outstretched in front of her, holding out a letter. She grabbed the letter that strangely felt like a fabric of some sort, as she placed her head on something hard, blackness surrounding her completely.

Perhaps she fainted, perhaps she just thought she had, vague voices sounded around her as strong hands supported her and laid her down somewhere and then let go. _'But,' _she wanted to ask, _'where is my letter?' _But there was no letter, and the commotion quieted down as Dr. Jones came for his routine daily visit to check on her. He asked her a few questions and she opened her eyes, the darkness slowly subsiding.

The worried faces of her mother and sisters were surrounding her, she felt suddenly heartened. Raising her eyes, she saw Mr. Darcy quietly exiting the room, leaving a grave looking Mr. Bingley behind. She closed her eyes again as the commotion around her died down.

"Miss Elizabeth," Dr. Jones called her name softly. Her eyes flew open.

"Can you tell me what you were doing when you fainted?"

"I…," she looked around and saw Jane's reassuring smile near her, her mother and sisters had gone out and Mr. Bingley was standing by a window, his back turned towards them, "nothing doctor, we were just saying goodbye to a guest and suddenly everything around me started to spin and darken."

"She had to hold onto Mr. Darcy for support doctor," Jane chimed in, reminding Elizabeth of another embarrassing moment with Mr. Darcy, her cheeks burned at the thought of being so close to him, she was practically in his arms. "She must have felt really weak," Jane finished.

"How did you feel at that time Miss Elizabeth, do you think something specific brought this spell of dizziness on?" Dr. Jones took careful notice of her flushed countenance. Elizabeth sighed, and decided to tell the doctor of what she had felt.

"I was just sitting here, listening to my sisters," she began, "they were talking about something that seemed familiar to me, but even though what they said was not related to me, it felt as though something similar had happened, but I could not place what it was." She stopped here and looked toward the patiently listening doctor, "does this make any sense Dr. Jones?"

"Yes, but go on."

"Just then our guest, Mr. Darcy, came in with Jane," she gestured towards her, "and I was just paying my parting curtseys when suddenly everything started to grow dark and my head swam a bit, but," Elizabeth stopped and took in a deep breath before continuing, "but the strange thing is that in that moment it was as though I was transported to some other place, where what had sounded familiar to me earlier…well…it…sort of happened." She finished haltingly and looked at the doctor to help her solve this muddle. He reflected quietly and then said thoughtfully,

"It could be a memory."

"Could it?" Elizabeth got excited, "for it was quiet like a vision."

"It could have been a flashback of one of your memories from the lost time Miss Elizabeth," the doctor said calmly, "but it could be nothing. Tell me, do you think that the cause of that sudden **vision **was what your sister said or Mr. Darcy? As one of the two must have brought it on."

"Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth cried sitting up a little, "no doctor. I am sure that it cannot be Mr. Darcy, why would he be giving me a letter?" She let slip before she could stop herself. At the same time Elizabeth could hear a sharp intake of breath from behind her, she turned around to see Jane with an astonished expression on her face which quickly turned into a beautiful smile.

"Oh Lizzy," she cried taking a step to face her, "you are remembering." And then she quickly turned towards Mr. Bingley, "Did you hear it Mr. Bingley? Lizzy just had her first flashback." Mr. Bingley distinctly resembled a goldfish then, but soon his face split into a wide grin.

"That is good news Miss Elizabeth," he came forward and said happily.

A bewildered Elizabeth turned towards the doctor to find him exchanging a knowing look with Jane as he stood up.

"It seems like my patient is improving," he gave her a smile, "I will leave now to have a word with your father, Good bye girls, Mr. Bingley."

"Good bye Dr. Jones," returned Mr. Bingley and Jane, but Elizabeth was too confused to say anything. As the engaged couple drifted off to the other end of the room to have their first real conversation of the day, Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to relax. Immediately, Mr. Darcy's pained glance materialized under her lids. Was her sudden recognition of his deep gaze real or imagined? But how could it be real, when she had never seen him after that awful evening at the Parsonage, or had she?

_'If only the doctor had not forbidden everyone to tell her about the past,' _she thought with frustration and opened her eyes, looking away from the whispering couple to the bright September morning outside. She pondered upon Dr. Jones's words, as he had asked her about what brought the sudden recollection, if it could be called that, and the subsequent dizzying spell on. Her sister had immediately assumed that it was a memory, maybe Jane knew of some letter that she had received in the past months.

Her mind drifted off to the words that she had clearly heard, a voice asking her to read a letter, _'whose voice could it be?' _It was a man's voice and the letter that was held out to her belonged to a man too, for though she could not see the person, she did distinguish the coat sleeve of a gentleman. _'The letter,' _she thought, getting excited, _'yes, the letter is the key to this particular memory of mine.' _Her eyes turned towards the bench that Mr. Darcy had occupied with Jane earlier, and her thoughts towards how she had raised her hand to receive the letter and clutched the lapels of Mr. Darcy's coat instead. She blushed again at the memory of how she had tightened her grip on his hand, was it to save herself from falling or was it because of the thrill his touch had produced in her?

_'Could it be his presence, his touch coupled with Lydia's words that brought the memory to the fore?' _This line of thinking was highly confusing to her yet delicate nerves. She shook her head to dispel this absurd idea, after all, why on Earth would Mr. Darcy be writing to her for? But she must look for a letter in her belongings as soon as she is well enough to do that. The idea of being able to exert again, even if for such a small activity, filled her with certain verve, making her all the more determined to be up and about soon.

**Chapter 24: Darcy Receives Guests and ****Elizabeth Receives a Letter**  


******A/N: Dearest readers, your reviews have made my life more beautiful, so heaps of thanks for that. There are two things that I would like to say to you.**

******First is that when I began posting this story, I already had about eight chapters written, so I wrote new one as I posted the initial ones, but since you know that I have been fairly regular in my posts, ergo my written chapters soon caught up to my posted ones. So from now on, I might not be able to post as regularly as before, but only once or twice a week (as soon as they are written and edited). My apologies for that.  
**

******The second and more important thing is that Elizabeth's memory regaining process is not going to happen in a day, its going to take time, lots of it. I want her to remember everything bit by bit, and still be in a doubt about whether it was a memory or a dream, so that when she finally does remember, its explosive.**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24: ****Elizabeth**** Receives a Letter and Darcy Receives Guests**

"I congratulate you on throwing such a splendid dinner party Miss Darcy." Mr. Gardiner complimented his hostess as he took the final sip of Mr. Darcy's exquisite wine.

"I thank you," Georgiana blushed profusely, unable to meet anyone's eye.

Darcy smiled lovingly at his sister, who had indeed done a very good job of arranging such an elaborate dinner for the guests. He looked around the table to find everyone conversing amiably as they finished the last course. Miss Bennet had arrived in town almost a week ago with Miss Mary Bennet and they were currently staying at the Gardiner's house at Gracechurch Street. Bingley of course, was quick to follow wherever his **angel** went, therefore he had also arrived a day or two afterwards. The Darcys and Bingley had been in constant contact with the Gardiners and their nieces since then. Miss Mary, though not of a friendly bent, did share a love for music with Georgiana, therefore making good company for her, if not for anyone else. However it was Miss Bennet who, with her perseverance had managed to convince Georgiana to lower her guard and open up a little. Darcy watched on as Georgiana smiled briefly at Miss Bennet, he sighed involuntarily as his mind drifted towards another one of the Bennet sisters, the one who was his heart's desire.

"Gentlemen," he turned towards Mr. Bingley and Mr. Gardiner, "shall we retire to my study?" Both the male guests agreed and left with him as Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley led the other three ladies towards the drawing room. Darcy listened to Mr. Bingley and Mr. Gardiner talk amiably as he stared at the sparkling liquid in his glass. He could not help but think that if everything had gone to plan, Elizabeth might also have been sitting with the ladies in his drawing room right now, making him hurry through the drinking ritual to spend more time in her vivacious company. He gulped down his port which scorched his throat from inside as it made its way down, Darcy winced lightly.

"I say Darcy," Bingley started hesitantly, "shall we go back to the ladies?" Mr. Gardiner hid his smile behind a cough as Darcy rolled his eyes, knowing which lady he wanted to go back to. They found the ladies gathered around the pianoforte as Miss Mary performed. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief as the gentlemen entered, for Miss Mary was not a very proficient player and had stopped in mid-note on observing them, but continued again as everyone settled down on seats of their choice.

"Why do you not play for us Miss Darcy?" Miss Bennet asked politely, Georgiana's head shot up at this and she looked warily towards Darcy, who gave her an encouraging smile. "Lizzy told me that you play beautifully," she said again.

"Did she," Georgiana's face lit up with a fond smile at her friend's name, "does she…," she began to ask something but faltered as a realization dawned on her, "I mean **did** she talk about me…before…before," her voice died down.

"Of course she did," Jane quickly got up from besides Mr. Bingley and came to sit on the empty chair between the two siblings. "She has the highest opinion of your talents and amiability. She also told me that you sketch beautifully."

"Not so beautifully," Georgiana smiled modestly. "Would you like to see the sketches I made of her," she asked eagerly, perking up.

"I would love it," Miss Bennet smiled her beautiful smile at the shy young girl who Miss Bingley had tried to set up as a rival for Mr. Bingley's affections. Georgiana got up and quickly exited the room to bring down her sketches of Elizabeth.

"I am glad that your trip to London was delayed till now Miss Bennet," Darcy intoned in his rich, deep voice, "you have really brought her out of the shell she had gone into after I told her of Miss Elizabeth's accident."

"I can understand how disappointed she must have been," Jane said sympathetically.

"How is she?" Darcy asked in a low voice. he had been meaning to ask about Elizabeth ever since Miss Bennet had arrived in the town, but could not bring himself to with everyone listening but now that they were sitting in relative privacy, he could not refrain from asking after her health.

"She is much recovered, physically," Miss Bennet replied slowly, "but she is still far from recovering any of her memories." Darcy nodded in understanding.

"It is good to know that she did not endure any lasting injury from the accident," he uttered gravely.

"She does, sometimes, have severe headaches," Miss Bennet told him, "it usually happens when she tries to remember."

"It does?" Darcy sat up a little worriedly, "then she must be told not to," he said in an anxious tone.

"Oh you know Lizzy," Miss Bennet smiled at him, "she never listens to anyone till she is completely convinced." Darcy smiled and nodded at that. "But Dr. Jones did warn her that her recurring headaches are not a good sign, that at least got her to stop overanalyzing any dreams or visions that she might have had."

"Did she have any of those then?" Darcy moved a little forward in his chair interestedly.

"Yes," she replied after a slight hesitation, "do you remember when she nearly fainted, the day you came to visit Longbourn," Darcy nodded, barely breathing. "She told the doctor afterwards that she had seen or maybe felt someone giving her a letter."

"And you think that it was **my** letter she saw?" He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yes," Miss Bennet said firmly, "it could not have been anyone else's, since she did not get any letter of significance during that period of time except yours."

"Did she remember the contents of the letter?" He asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately no," Miss Bennet's face fell, "and the severe headache and subsequent vertigo hindered her progress with respect to her remembering anything else." Darcy breathed deeply and turned his head as Georgiana entered with the sketches.

"Here," she held one out for Miss Bennet to see. Darcy got up and moved towards Mr. Gardiner, leaving a seat empty for Mrs. Gardiner to occupy. She thanked him as she took the seat, taking the sketch that Miss Bennet passed to her.

"Edward, you must take a look at this," she called out in a surprised voice, "Miss Darcy has captured our Lizzy's likeness amazingly well." Mr. Gardiner and Mr. Bingley both walked towards where the ladies had gathered to observe, leaving Darcy to his thoughts and Miss Mary to her playing, which she did with abandon, never having the privilege to work at such a superior instrument before.

"I did not want her to look stiff or her smile to feel unnatural," Georgiana's voice brought Darcy out of his solemn reverie, he turned his eyes towards where she was describing her sketch, albeit a little hesitantly, "so I…um…asked her to read…ahem…Much Ado About Nothing, while I drew her."

"That was a clever plan," Mrs. Gardiner smiled at Georgiana, "giving Lizzy a copy of the bard's famous comedy was the surest way to keep a smile on her face for as long as you needed to sketch." Georgiana blushed at such praise, Miss Bennet sensing her shyness diverted the attention towards the subject of the sketch.

"And Lizzy dearly loves to laugh," she smiled at her Aunt and Uncle.

"Yes," Mr. Gardiner's face clouded over a little, "I hope she regains her memories soon, she told me that her memories from the trip to Derbyshire were some of her best." Darcy closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them to find Mrs. Gardiner looking at him with understanding, he averted his eyes.

As the evening turned into night, the Gardiners prepared to leave with their nieces and Mr. Bingley offered to take them in his carriage. Darcy and Georgiana went to the main door to see their guests off.

"I hope to see you and Miss Darcy for dinner on Tuesday Mr. Darcy," Mrs. Gardiner reminded him with a smile on her kind face.

"Of course Mrs. Gardiner," Darcy said bowing a little, "after all, I did promise Master Alfred a look into my father's Atlas."

"Oh you should not have, he will never let you go back now." She laughed as she turned towards her young hostess who was bidding farewell to Miss Mary, the gentlemen were already waiting by the carriage after paying their regards.

"I would probably be gone by Tuesday Mr. Darcy," Miss Bennet said in her soft voice, "so I will take my leave now and I would also like to once again assert how wonderful it would be for me if both you and Miss Darcy came to the wedding."

"I do hope you would still be here when we come to the Gardiner's dinner, Miss Bennet," Georgiana said shyly, "I do so love to talk to you about Eli…Miss Elizabeth." She faltered on Elizabeth's name. Miss Bennet squeezed her hand and Georgiana brought out a paper rolled up with a ribbon and held it out for her to take. Darcy looked on curiously as Mr. Gardiner handed his wife and niece into the carriage.

"I thought it would be a good idea if you took this to her," she said in a low, hesitant voice, "maybe it c-can help…ahem…her remember."

"Of course Miss Darcy," Miss Bennet took it from her hand and looked at Mr. Darcy expressively, "but I hope you would not mind if I do not give it to her right away, she does not yet know that she met you in Derbyshire." Darcy's heart slowed as he saw Georgiana's face fall.

"We understand Miss Bennet," he quickly stepped forward and took her hand, "and I will be there at the wedding."

Both siblings watched with a sad smile as the carriage drew away, and returned to the house with heavy hearts, each not knowing how to console the other.

"Come into my study for a moment sweeting," Darcy beckoned Georgiana towards himself as she started to move towards the stairs. She followed him with slow steps, they both entered the study and made their way towards the couch.

"I can see that you are upset Georgie, would you not tell me what is disturbing you?" He asked after seating her with him and putting an arm over her shoulder.

"Oh William," she turned towards him with teary eyes, "how can you bear this? How can you smile and nod and go about your routine as if nothing has happened when our world is coming apart. She is **ours** William, and yet she does not remember **us**. This is beyond my endurance, it is tearing me apart." She started to sob heavily, by the end. Darcy looked on helplessly and then softly pushed her head down on his shoulder, asking her to stop crying. After a while when her tears died down and she stopped weeping, Darcy slowly turned her to face him.

"Georgie, do you remember when I came back from Kent?" He asked her and she nodded. "Do you remember how devastated I was, how broken, how devoid of any kind of hope?" He looked at her and she nodded again. Darcy took a deep breath before continuing, _'how to explain the depth of my feeling to someone so young and naïve.' _

"I do feel devastated again as my dreams for a future with her lie broken in front of me, but I am not devoid of hope this time," he wiped her tears with his fingers, "she might not remember this yet, but she does love me, and if she fails to remember this on her own, I can always try to win her heart again," he shrugged his shoulders at his still sulking sister.

"But what if she does not fall in love with you again?" Her voice shook with fear as it pitched down to a whisper, "What if she does not get over the proposal with no letter to help her through? What if she falls in love with someone else?" Darcy paled for a moment and got up to walk to the hearth.

"Now that is something I cannot allow, can I?" He gave Georgiana a smile that did not reach his eyes, she had unknowingly asked the very questions that had been haunting him. Not wanting to disturb her further, he thought it better to change the subject. "Will you come to Bingley's wedding with me?"

"How shall I bear it if she does not recognize me?" She also stood up and looked at him with big doe eyes.

"Then you should stay home and prepare for our trip to Izzie's," he said firmly. She nodded.

"How long shall we stay at Torquay?" She asked.

"As long as Bella can tolerate you," he smiled a genuine smile this time and Georgiana also brightened up.

"We shall tolerate each other fine William, it is you and Uncle Zack who cannot tolerate each other," she teased, knowing that Darcy used to be extremely jealous of Zachary Collier as a child since he stole away his favourite Aunt. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Now off to bed with you," he gestured towards the door, "I have some work to finish up here." She smiled, bade him good might and went away.

As soon as she was out of the door, Darcy's mask of agreeableness slipped. He folded his elbows on the mantle piece as he rubbed his temples with his fingers. It was good what Miss Bennet had told him about Elizabeth's improving health, but that she had failed to remember anything from the past months did not augur well with him. He stepped away from the fire and walked towards his paper laden desk, looking at the unread letters and his solicitor's papers with unseeing eyes. If she had not gained any memories now, when everything was still fresh, would she be able to remember anything when a considerable time had elapsed? Would that not dampen the memories even further? He sighed and moved to sit on the chair by the desk, the doctor did say that she would remember, given time and patience, and there is nothing that can be done to jolt her memory.

He grabbed a letter and broke its seal, it was from the steward at Pemberley informing him about some land dispute among the tenants, Darcy put it aside and sat back in his comfortable chair. Maybe he was wrong to stay away, maybe she needed him near her to remember, after all his presence did push her into remembering the letter…if it **was his **letter that she remembered. But no, he entwined his fingers and placed his hands on the desk, the doctor had specifically told her not to try and remember anything by thinking too hard on it, she should just let them come to her slowly and on their own.

_'I shall wait,' _he decided and pulled the solicitor's papers towards him. On Wednesday, he had to travel to Pemberley, to wrap up his estate business for the winter as he would be away for most of it. His Aunt Isabel Collier, who lived with her family in Torquay, Devonshire had invited him and Georgiana to visit there for Christmas, and seeing Georgiana's enthusiasm for the plan he had determined to go there in November, but now with the loneliness tearing at his heart, he had decided to leave within a day or two of Bingley's wedding. _'It would have been my wedding day as well," _he brooded, _'I could have taken Elizabeth to the beautiful beaches of Torquay, we could have walked on the sand for hours, talking about everything and nothing, I could have kissed her on some empty corner of the beach…' _He quickly caught himself before his thoughts got out of control, day dreams could wait, they would have to wait, he turned his attention towards the legal documents in front of him, all the while thinking about Elizabeth, and what Bingley's wedding might bring.

**….**

Elizabeth walked in the park of Longbourn, recovered enough to take lone strolls not too far away from the house. She thought it a good thing that she did not remember the actual accident, otherwise it might have given her a fright of woods. But the loss of her other memories had started to weigh down on her bit by bit, especially now that Jane was gone to town to finish her shopping for her wedding trousseau. Elizabeth frowned as she took a turn and recalled one particular conversation that she had had with Jane after Mr. Bingley had left that day.

_They had repaired to their bedroom for the night, when __Elizabeth__ asked Jane about Mr. Darcy. "Jane," she began a little hesitantly, "what did you and Mr. Darcy talk about when you went outside this morning?"_

_"Nothing important," Jane replied averting her blue eyes from __Elizabeth__'s dark orbs that were shining in the dim light of the dark room. They were lying on their beds, facing each other._

_"I saw you touch his shoulder Jane," she said in a disbelieving voice and perched her elbow on her pillow, moving up a little._

_"W-well," Jane still sounded hesitant, "he was distressed about something."_

_"And are you two such great friends now that you console him in his time of need?" Elizabeth said heatedly, "if I related the sorry tale of his awful proposal to me, in detail to you, then you must know why I find it hard to believe that you would sympathize with a man who tried to drive a wedge between you and Mr. Bingley."_

_"Lizzy please do not agitate yourself," Jane looked at her in concern and touched her hand softly. __Elizabeth__ sat up and shoved her hand away, her ire rising._

_"I cannot believe that you would hide something from me Jane," she cried, "and for that…that…that proud man," she spat out, a vein in her temple had started to throb._

_"Lizzy please," Jane begged, sitting up, "you have had enough anxiety for one day, calm yourself, I beg you."_

_"Tell me why you were being so nice to Mr. Darcy and I will," __Elizabeth__'s hand involuntarily went up to her temple as she took a deep calming breath._

_"Of course Lizzy," Jane took her hand in both of hers, "he…Lizzy, Mr. Darcy…I would have told you before but the doctor had specifically ordered us not to relate anything that could be even remotely agitating to you." She stopped and looked towards __Elizabeth__. She nodded as an encouragement for Jane to go on._

_"Lizzy, you told me about Mr. Darcy's interference when you came back from __Kent__, but not immediately. Before you could tell me I met him at a ball in town," here Jane stopped again and looked towards her, but Elizabeth only shrugged her shoulders for she had no recollection of any of the things Jane had just told her. Jane sighed and went on, "At the Munroe Ball, Mr. Darcy was extremely kind and solicitous towards me. Not only did he introduce me to his cousins, he also danced with me."_

_"He did?" __Elizabeth__ looked at her sister in utter astonishment._

_"Yes," Jane replied with a half smile, "but that was not the astounding part, what really took me by surprise was when he asked me, indirectly, that if Mr. Bingley returned to Hertfordshire, will I welcome him."_

_"What?" __Elizabeth__ jumped, "this cannot be true Jane."_

_"Darling, I can stop right now if this is agitating to you," Jane asked with concern._

_"I would not die of a little agitation Jane, but I certainly will of suspense, so just tell me everything at once," she squeezed Jane's hand. Jane smiled indulgently at her, relieved that she did not faint so far._

_"Well, I gave him a positive answer and now I am engaged to Mr. Bingley," Jane said contentedly._

_"You mean, Mr. Darcy sent Mr. Bingley to you?" Elizabeth's eyes widened alarmingly, this did not concur with her image of a heartless Mr. Darcy. Jane smiled and nodded. __Elizabeth__ felt her head began to throb anew. She laid back on her pillow while Jane adjusted the covers around her and then laid back as well._

_"Jane," she asked in a hollow voice, "what were you two talking about outside?"_

_"I wanted to thank him for sending Mr. Bingley back to me," Jane replied quietly. __Elizabeth__ nodded and then closed her eyes._

_"Why were you so sure that the vision I saw was a memory?" She asked again, a little groggily this time as the laudanum she had taken for her headache had started to take effect. "Did I receive a letter in the way I saw in that vision, in the past four months?" Elizabeth felt Jane hesitate a moment before she said in a firm voice,_

_"No," and then settled down for sleep._

Elizabeth sat down on the bench that Jane and Mr. Darcy had occupied that morning, more than a fortnight ago. Every day after that, she had tried to remember more of what might have happened in the past months, but to no avail. Sometimes, a sentence uttered by someone or another of her family would sound familiar, but the more she tried to think about what it meant or where she could possibly have heard it, the more muddled her thoughts became and more often than not she got a most terrible headache. Jane, knowing about her struggles, told Dr. Jones of her ordeal, but their discussion did not go as planned, for he immediately forbade Elizabeth to dwell on anything that was stressful to her. Elizabeth had tried to argue with the doctor that if she does not try to remember, how will she recall any of the missing memories, but he had been adamant that any forced attempt at bringing them back would cause more harm than good, emphasizing that her repeated headaches were not a good sign.

That did stop her incessant prodding into the past, for even though she was eager to remember everything, she did not, want it at the cost of her health. So she had stopped obsessing about the lost time and concentrated on getting rid of her headaches, and indeed, only one week of living in the present had almost cured her of it, to the joy of Jane who did not want to leave her and go to London for shopping when she was unwell. So after many assurances from Elizabeth and Dr. Jones that she was on the mend, Jane left with Mary for town.

Only a day after she left, the doctor allowed Elizabeth to walk for small durations, and in full view of the house, preferably with someone, in case she had a dizzying spell. But Elizabeth refused the last part, insisting that she would be alright on her own. Dr. Jones relented but only after Mr. Bennet assured him, in person, that he would keep an eye on his stubborn daughter from the library window. So it was that Elizabeth had made a habit of walking in the park everyday for sometime.

She looked around her at the fallen leaves, the first victims of early autumn and sighed. Jane's absence of only a week had shown her how dreadfully she would miss her lovely sister after her marriage to Mr. Bingley. Jane was the mirror that showed Elizabeth all that she was, not only highlighting her true worth but also pointing out the deficiencies in her character, in a sweet way so she would not take offence. Jane had, before leaving, tried to hint at Mr. Darcy not being the vile creature Elizabeth advocated so wholeheartedly for, but only a misunderstood one.

Her mind drifted towards Jane's disclosure about Mr. Darcy's role in bringing her and Mr. Bingley together. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she mused on the mystery that was Mr. Darcy. He certainly had shown himself to be not so arrogant as to never admit a fault, for he must have accepted her word on Jane's feelings in order for him to convince Mr. Bingley to go back to Netherfield Park. _'Yes,' _she conceded in her mind, _'maybe he is not as vicious as I made him out to be, but he is also not as amiable as Jane imagines.' _Jane was not there when Elizabeth had to endure his tirade on the improprieties of her mother and sisters, she did not hear the disdain in his voice for poor Mr. Wickham and she certainly did not see his face overspread with hauteur. But since he had brought her beloved sister her happiness back, which would not have been taken away from her in the first place if it was not for him, therefore Elizabeth had decided to be civil to him when he came to Jane's wedding, even though she hoped and prayed that something would happen to stop him from coming.

"Miss Elizabeth," the voice of Mrs. Hill interrupted her thoughts, she looked up to find her holding out a letter for her to take, "this just came for you." Elizabeth thanked her, took the letter from her and looked at it curiously, her mind wandering to that vision she had had of someone giving her a letter, but she shook her head to dispel that image as she read the directions on the letter, her face splitting into a wide smile.

"Its from, Rose," she said out loud, too happy to realize that there was no one to hear her. She quickly broke the seal as her eyes slipped on the lines.

_My darling injured Lizzy,_

_What on earth possessed you to go stand under a tree about to throw off a branch? I have lost all hope of ever curing you of your adamant streak. Jokes apart dearest, but I really am quite worried about you ever since Jane's letter arrived, informing me of your accident. I hope you have sufficiently recovered by now to enjoy my pathetic attempt at a joke._

_I am also writing to inform you of our upcoming arrival at __London__ in late October. Even though Torquay is developing at an alarming rate ever since all the high society of __England__ decided it would be a good idea to explore its beaches, it still lacks the fine shops of dear old __London__, therefore the trip thither. Papa hates to be stirred from home after his retirement, so James will accompany us and also hate us for tearing him apart from his beloved Irene, but is consoling himself with the simile that 'what cannot be cured, must be endured.'_

_I know that you are not supposed to indulge in extensive reading, yet, therefore I will now come to the point, it being that we, all of us, want you to join us on our way back home from town. Indeed the sea air would do your muddled head much good and would prompt your wayward memories to come running back to you. You must also agree that after Jane's wedding and with no __Charlotte__ to keep you company, you would be horribly bored and that is where Torquay's lovely beaches and coves come into play._

_Reply me in affirmative, for you know that I absolutely detest being denied anything I want, and right now I want your good company for Christmas. Mama adds her love for you and the rest of your family except for Mr. Bennet, of course, for that would be just…wrong and highly improper._

_Truly yours,_

_Rosalind Trent._

Elizabeth was shaking with mirth by the time she reached the letter's end and shook her head as she folded it. Rosalind Trent, or Rose as all her friends were used to calling her, was the daughter of Mrs. and Admiral Joshua Trent. They were the former tenants of Netherfield Park and had relocated to Devonshire some three years ago, on the Admiral's retirement. Mrs. Trent, as a young girl had attracted the attention of a naval officer from a respected, if not very wealthy background, the then Lt. Trent. They had married and lived by comfortable means for a few years till Lt. Trent was promoted to Captaincy, thereby gaining him a considerable fortune. With that fortune they had leased Netherfield Park, since her family was from Hertfordshire, and lived there for thirteen years. After his retirement, the Admiral who had spent the major portion of his active service in Torquay in Devonshire, decided to settle there for its healthy sea air.

Before their removal from Hertfordshire three years ago, Jane, Elizabeth, Charlotte and Rosalind were thick as thieves, and never stirred without each other. The three left behind in Hertfordshire had missed their energetic friend very much after her removal, since besides Elizabeth, only Rosalind had that lively spark. A similarity in nature had made the two of them very close and over the years they had kept in touch through letters. The opportunity of meeting and spending time with her friend was an added inducement for Elizabeth, she could feel the sea air already beckoning and the waves closing in around her ankles. Elizabeth quickly got up from her perch and fairly skipped towards her father's library, to ask for his permission.

"Papa," she cried, entering Mr. Bennet's sanctuary, "you would not believe the offer I just received." Mr. Bennet took in her glowing countenance and raised an eyebrow.

"Do you mean to tell me child, that you have been proposed to while out on a walk in the garden?" He asked sardonically, closing the heavy looking tome in front of him. Elizabeth let out a chuckle, feeling light hearted for the first time after her accident.

"No indeed, I have not been so fortunate as that," she frowned slightly at the memory of the two proposals she had received, "it is only an offer to visit the moors of Devonshire," her eyes sparkled as her mood lightened at the curiosity on her father's face.

"And who may I ask is the perpetrator behind this offer?"

"The Trents," she grinned fully now, sitting on the settee near his table.

"Oh," he said, understanding dawning on his face, "did Rose write to you?"

"Yes Papa," Elizabeth sat up quickly, but then leaned back as the room spun ever so lightly in her eyes, _'no excitement for you Miss Elizabeth,' _she reminded herself of the doctors instructions and tried to calm herself.

"Are you alright Lizzy?" Mr. Bennet looked at her with concern, "you have not been on the hunt for your lost memories again, have you?"

"No Papa," she assured him weakly, "it's just the excitement."

"How would you travel?" He asked, narrowing his eyes, "you do not think that I would allow you to travel such a distance on your own?"

"Of course not Papa," she smiled condescendingly at him, "the Trents are coming to town in October, after Jane's wedding, I would only have to travel till London on my own, after that I would be with them, and knowing the Trents, you can be sure that I would be taken care of."

"Yes, they are good people, the Trents," he said thoughtfully. "I would allow you to go Lizzy, but on one condition only."

"Papa, please, do not start on my illness," she moaned, "I am much recovered, I assure you, and would be hale and hearty by Jane's wedding, I promise."

"Alright child," he conceded and opened his book again, "if you are recovered by the time of the trip, I would let you go." Elizabeth smiled and got slowly up from the chair, not wanting to risk her health on account of any more excitement, this trip was too important, even more important than she knew.

**Chapter 25: The Bingley Wedding: Mix-Up with the Place Card and Misunderstanding about Jane**

**A/N: I would like to thank Astonishment and YepItsMe, Allboysshouldhavelonghair for highlighting mistakes in my story's text.**

**Also there is one anonymous reviewer who not only has read the whole story in one day, but has also gone to the trouble of reviewing almost every chapter. Thank you so much to that reviewer, and I would like him/her to know that I have made almost all the changes that were suggested.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: ****No specific memory is recalled in this chapter but still, if anyone wants to go back and read, here's the reference.**

**Memory reference: ****Chapter 5; the bookstore scene, Elizabeth's POV & Chapter 21; the scene at the clearing (for the dream).**

**Chapter 25: The Bingley Wedding: Mix-Up with the Place Card and Misunderstanding about Jane**

Darcy looked around him to find the Meryton church full to the brim and buzzing with incessant chatter among the occupants of the pews. Mrs. Bennet had arrived some moments ago and swept inside with the triumphant glow of having a daughter well married, her three youngest daughters had followed her, dressed in their finest. He had earlier met Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner and their children, who were now seated behind Mrs. Bennet, along with the Phillipses. Darcy looked slightly to his side to find Miss Bingley simpering at him, he quickly turned away and went back to staring at the cross adorning the church wall.

Darcy had arrived late last night, and was immediately taken to task by Bingley for not coming to the ball that was held a day previously. Miss Bingley had also tried to cover their last meeting's sourness up by professing her disappointment at not finding him at a ball that she had arranged so beautifully. That, however only served to make Darcy even more grateful for not attending. He had decided to skip the ball on account of Elizabeth, he knew that seeing her in front of him in all her finery, would make it impossible for him not to ask her to dance, and that was something he was determined to avoid. There is only so much of temptation that a man could take, and he was already at his limit's end. Darcy tugged lightly at his cravat, which seemed to choke him today.

Suddenly a commotion could be heard through the door and Bingley's fidgeting stopped, the bride had arrived. Darcy inhaled a deep breath, knowing that with the bride, her sister would also have arrived, he did not want to turn, he did not want to stay, all he wanted was to grab the said sister by her shoulders and force her to remember, but alas that was the only thing he could not do, since he would have to stay and he would also have to turn around. He quickly schooled his features into a mask of hauteur, and slowly turned around to look at the bride, who had, by now come quite close to the altar.

Miss Jane Bennet looked especially beautiful today in her cream gown and bonnet with a burgundy ribbon. He released the breath he was holding, when he realized that Elizabeth was not with the father and daughter walking up the aisle. Before he could think on her possible locations, Mr. Bennet was handing Jane to Bingley, who took her hand with alacrity. Just as Darcy was about to turn around, Mr. Bennet stepped towards the front pew and Miss Bennet stepped up the altar, and there was Elizabeth, standing right in front him. She was all loveliness in a beautiful light coral gown, love shining through her eyes as she looked at her sister, love that was his, and yet not quite. He quickly faced the front of the church, before she could observe the grief in his eyes. He did not know whether she moved away or stayed with Miss Bennet, all he knew was the sadness, slowly growing inside of him.

As Mr. Braithwaite, the local clergyman, started the ceremony, Darcy's mind drifted off. It could have been his wedding day too, it could have been him promising to pledge his heart, his love and his loyalties to **his** Elizabeth, but instead he was forced to stand on the outskirts and satisfy his tumultuous emotions by just looking at her. He clenched his fists, resentment building up inside him, just looking at her was not enough any more, indeed it never had been, he wanted more, he wanted all, _'damn it, he __**deserved **__all.'_

"….in sickness and in health…"

The parson's voice jolted Darcy out of his grave thoughts and the words echoed in his mind, making him realize the folly of his thoughts. He turned his head slightly and saw Elizabeth behind her sister, staring ahead, looking a little paler than usual for her skin still had not gotten that healthy glow back, or maybe she was sad that her sister was leaving. He dragged his eyes away with difficulty, from her person.

_'Does amnesia count for sickness?' _He questioned silently, _'yes it does,' _he decided, for as long as she remained in the dark about her memories, she would remain in a constant state of anxiety, which cannot be a positive sign as far as her mental health was concerned. Darcy sighed as the priest asked Bingley to undertake the final vow. Any bitterness that he might have felt towards the unsuspecting woman standing behind the bride, evaporated into thin air in that moment. He was determined to be optimistic about the whole mess , and optimistic he shall be. He turned towards the crowd as Bingley placed a kiss on the hand of his wife and his eyes traveled to the face dearest to him in all the world, he would show her that he was not the selfish person she had despised so much, he would prove his love and his forbearance, he would **wait.** He turned towards the happy couple to offer his congratulations.

After the wedding ceremony, all the guests went on to Longbourn for the wedding breakfast. Mrs. Bennet had outdone herself in the preparation of and arrangement for that particular event. Even nature was on her side, as the sun shone brightly with out even a hint of a breeze on that early October morning. Guests were going about congratulating the happy couple and their family.

Darcy joined the few acquaintances of Bingley who had come down from London after wishing the bride's parents, until it was time for everyone to be seated. He looked around for a place card with his name among the ton crowd's designated table, but it was not there. Darcy frowned and looked around for Miss Bingley, maybe she had placed him besides herself, but that could not be possible as she herself was sitting down at the table where the bride and groom were sitting with Mr. Bennet. He was about to walk towards them when he suddenly found himself face to face with none other than Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

"Mr. Darcy," she curtseyed, obviously surprised at finding them unexpectedly in front of each other.

"Miss Bennet," he bowed without smiling, his reason for being so frigid was rather simple, it is difficult to smile when the only person who had the power to make him smile currently, considered him the worst of her enemies. For a moment they both seemed at a loss for what to say, but then Darcy recollected that he had been looking for a place to sit.

"I…uh…I have not been able to find a place card for myself," he began cautiously, "perhaps you know where I am to be seated?" She looked at him in confusion, knitting her eyebrows together and Darcy had to suppress the urge to smooth her frown with his fingers, he folded his hands behind his back in order to stop himself from giving in to any such impulse.

"I thought Mama seated you with Mr. Bingley's friends from town," she said in a puzzled tone.

"Well I have already checked that table," Darcy gestured towards where the said friends of the groom were seated.

"Maybe you did not look properly, Mr. Darcy," she arched one eyebrow at him in a style he was familiar with from his previous stay at Netherfield. He had thought it her way of trying to challenge him then, but now he knew better, it was a sign of a challenge all right, but it was also a sign of her dislike for him.

"Were you in charge of putting down the place cards Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked in an apparently impassive tone.

"No, but…," she was about to reply when Darcy cut her,

"Then maybe you do not know where I am supposed to sit," he arched one eyebrow as well, issuing a challenge of his own. So what if he could not have her for his own right now, he could still enjoy her fire. She opened her mouth to retort but did not get to do that as out of nowhere Mrs. Bennet's shrill voice pounded his ears.

"Lizzy, what are you doing, keeping Mr. Darcy standing here when all the other guests are already seated?"

"Mama, we cannot find a place card for him," she looked annoyed now and Darcy started to feel bad about provoking her.

"Cannot find it? Why I placed him right next to you on the table next to the one by the newly weds," she uttered in bewilderment as Darcy saw surprise register on Elizabeth's face. "Now take him there, my dear. Go on." And with that she went away, leaving the two of them in awkward silence.

"This way please," she let out an exasperated sigh and led him towards their table. As they neared the table, Darcy also found it surprising that Mrs. Bennet would place him on a table that seated all her daughters besides the one who got married, but he was not complaining as long as he could be near Elizabeth. He held out a seat for her and took her appearance in as she settled down. She was not wearing her hair up as was usual, but had tied it simply with a ribbon, like she had that beautiful night when she came to meet him in the library of Pemberley, _'because of her injury,' _he concluded. As he sat on his own chair, a whiff of lavender hit his senses, intoxicating him.

"…cannot be found anywhere, not even in London," Miss Lydia was going on and on about some novel's unavailability in a voice that was much too loud to be proper, "and Mrs. Forster told me that it contains scenes that are quite beyond the ordinary imagination," here she winked at an openmouthed Miss Catherine, "if you know what I mean." Darcy observed that Miss Catherine obviously did not know what Miss Lydia meant, but did not want to be outdone in the department of illicit knowledge, she nodded her head vigorously, rather too vigorously, Darcy's eyes narrowed as some flowers, that she had adorned her hair with, fell off.

Elizabeth's hand lightly brushed his as she picked up her fork, Darcy felt a tremor travel up his spine, God alone knew how he mastered the impulse of not covering her delicate fingers with his own. He turned slightly towards Elizabeth and saw that she was steadfastly avoiding his gaze, staring at the pastry in her plate. Darcy's eyes narrowed again, she was obviously embarrassed because of what her sisters were discussing in front of him. It struck him suddenly that **this **Elizabeth still thought him to be the **old **Darcy, who looked down upon her relations with disdain and was loathe to have anything to do with them. For a brief second his eyes lost all their luster at the thought of her low opinion of him before it returned to make them more blue than ever, this was his first chance to change her estimation of his character, and change it he would, this was too precious a chance to be passed up.

"…name sounds rather exciting does it not," Miss Lydia was again hampering on the same subject while stuffing her mouth with an apple scone, "_The Illicit Ardour of the Clergyman's Sister," _she said rather dreamily.

Darcy almost jumped for joy, this was one novel he knew all about, since he had recently acquired it for Georgiana with great difficulty. He straightened his shoulders and closed in for the kill.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat unnecessarily and said firmly, "Daughter." Four pairs of eyes stared at him in bewilderment. "It's the_ Illicit Ardour of the Clergyman's Daughter, _not Sister," he corrected, taking his time munching on the delectable éclair. Miss Lydia blinked, Miss Catherine gaped, Miss Mary looked on in censure and, he turned towards Elizabeth who was staring at him wide eyed.

"And how do you know about this novel Mr. Darcy," Miss Lydia's surprised voice brought him back to the topic at hand. He shook his head lightly, _'concentrate on the novel and not the angry woman's eyes.'_

"I have a younger sister about your age Miss Lydia, and procuring…err…such…ahem informative novels for her is one of my many duties," he eyed the growing interest in the young girl's eyes warily, _'I hope she would not try to flirt with me now.'_.

"And did you procure this particular novel for her too?" She batted her lashes so fast that poor Darcy's hair stood up in horror. _'Oh no, she __**will**__ now try to flirt with me.' _

"Recently," he gulped.

"So are you going to tell us what it is about," she bent forward, her already low neckline plunging to new and unknown depths, "or are you going to make us beg," her voice acquired a sultry tone that made Darcy cringe.

"I did not read it, Miss Lydia," to his horror, he was now blushing. But help came from a most unexpected corner.

"And do you allow your sister to keep these novels in your library at Pemberley?" Miss Marry asked, shaking her head in disapproval. Again the reply came from an unexpected source.

"No," said Elizabeth, "she keeps them in her sitting room." All eyes now turned on her, one pair particularly intense.

"How do you…" Miss Lydia began but left her sentence unfinished, "oh, you visited there with Uncle Gardiner did you not?"

"But I thought you had forgotten all about it Lizzy?" Miss Catherine asked curiously.

"I…," her countenance registered extreme surprise at what she had just said.

"Lydia, Kitty," Miss Mary called her two younger sisters standing up, "Mama is calling us, come." All three left quickly, to find out what Mrs. Bennet had in store for them. Darcy, however had eyes only for his Elizabeth, who looked upset at what she had just said.

"Do you remember my sister Miss Elizabeth," he asked on baited breath, his eyes never leaving hers. She shook her head.

"I do not know why I said this just now," she said morosely, "I…somehow …the mention of that book…you…saying that you got it for your sister…I…it…it was…it sounded familiar and…" she could not go on, and looked helplessly at him. Darcy released his breath, she still did not remember. He nodded reassuringly at her, an encouragement for her to go on.

"I…I know that what I just said does not make any sense," she looked away from him now, "Jane has told me about my trip to Derbyshire and also that I visited your house with my Aunt and Uncle, and I have seen you interacting with them too, but…," she breathed deeply and turned her tortured eyes towards him again, "Mr. Darcy, how do I know where your sister keeps her books? One visit to Pemberley could not possibly have told me that, did I visit more than once?" she looked at him beseechingly.

Darcy closed his eyes for a moment, she was so obviously in pain, he wanted to relieve her of it, but telling her that she lived with him under the same roof might come as a shock to her. He opened his eyes to find her looking at him with an odd expression on her face, a mix of curiosity and something else…confusion?

"Yes, you did," he said a little hesitantly, "and you also had a detailed tour of the Library and the private rooms."

"I did?" her face fell, she must be feeling mortified right now, just like she had when they first came across each other at Pemberley.

"Yes," he continued in a consoling tone, "but I can only guess at what you might have seen, since I was away from home that day." It was true, strictly speaking, for he was at Matlock the day Georgiana gave Elizabeth a detailed tour of Pemberley.

"Oh," she immediately brightened up, "then she really does keep her books in her sitting room and I am not just groping in the air?" She asked hopefully. Darcy nodded with a straight face now.

"Oh how wonderful," she looked excited, "this is the first official memory, I have recalled, I have to tell Dr. Jones," she got up quickly but then sat down immediately, as her hand reached to her temple.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy panicked and grabbed her other hand in his, "are you all right, are you having a dizzying spell again? I would just go get the doctor." He was about to leave her hand and run towards Dr. Jones, when he felt her hand turning in his and holding it tightly.

"No," she whispered, "stay." Darcy's heart soared momentarily at such an intimate gesture, before worry for her health shook him up again. He looked on in wretched suspense while she regained her faculties, their hands pressed together. After a few moments she opened her eyes slowly and blinked at the scene around her. Darcy wordlessly forwarded his yet untouched glass of wine closer to her but she made no move to touch it.

"How do you feel now?" he bent a little towards her in concern, _'and not to smell her invigorating scent,' _he assured himself.

"Better, thank you," she exhaled and then looked up at him, "you would not tell anyone would you?"

"Tell anyone what?" He asked in confusion, not knowing what she was alluding to.

"About this," she gestured towards her head, "I assure you it does not happen often, in fact it has happened after many days today."

"Why do you not want your family to know about this? Surely they deserve to know if you are unwell," he felt surprised at this sudden need for secrecy from her family.

"You do not understand," she retorted hotly, "every time I try to, or actually recall something, it is followed by some lightheadedness, that is it, it is nothing dangerous. But if my father found out he would not let me go."

"All right," Darcy said quietly, a little taken aback by her vehemence. He thought it better not to ask where she was to go, "I better go and say farewell to the happy couple now." She nodded. Darcy knew that this would be their last meeting for some months now and wanted to prolong it as long as possible but knew that he had no reason left to linger on.

"I wish you a speedy recovery Miss Bennet," he said softly, and his voice thickened with suppressed emotion when he uttered the next part of his farewell, "and I sincerely hope that when next we meet, you would have recovered **all **your memories."

"I thank you Mr. Darcy," her eyes softened, "and I hope so too." They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, eyes communicating what lips were forbidden to.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy broke the spell.

"Yes," she uttered without breaking the gaze.

"You are still holding my hand," his eyes twinkled, "and I would be needing it, in order to go back to London."

Elizabeth jerked her hand away as if stung, her face reddening to a deep crimson.

"I…uh…d-did not re-realize," she stammered, averting her eyes.

"Goodbye Miss Bennet," not wanting to embarrass her further, Darcy uttered a hasty farewell before making his way towards where Mr. and Mrs. Bingley stood, but when he saw that they were already surrounded by too many well wishers, he quietly stepped towards the Gardiners.

…**.**

When Elizabeth entered the humming Church behind Mr. Bennet and a perfect looking Jane, a hush instantly fell on the chattering crowd. The three of them walked slowly towards the altar, Elizabeth peeked from behind her father to see an eager looking Mr. Bingley resplendent in his wedding garb and a very broad back of a very tall gentleman that could be none other than the formidable Mr. Darcy. As she watched, he slowly started to turn around, Elizabeth quickly ducked behind Mr. Bennet, she was in no mood of being stared intensely at.

She did not take her eyes off Jane until they reached the altar, where Mr. Bennet bestowed a kiss on Jane's forehead and walked off to where the rest of the family was sitting. Jane stepped up and the ceremony started. Elizabeth could not stop her eyes from traveling up towards the solemn face of Mr. Bingley's best man throughout the recitation of the wedding vows, with her mind touching briefly upon the last few days intermittently.

Jane had come back from town, bursting with wedding things and to Mrs. Bennet's chagrin, gifts for her sisters. Elizabeth especially loved the two beautiful bonnets that she had gotten for her, sea breeze on her mind. Jane had lit up when she told her about Rose's invitation, it made her feel less guilty about going off to Italy when she would be here alone. She did however worry about her being sufficiently recovered to undertake such a long journey, but Elizabeth assured her that her vertigoes had almost ended.

The sermon sounded interminable to Elizabeth's ears, as she shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes again fell on the profile of Mr. Darcy. She narrowed her eyes as she noticed the pallid countenance of Mr. Darcy, that kept on getting drained of colour as the sermon proceeded. _'He is nothing but kind and gentle, what everyone thought of as his pride was nothing but reserve Lizzy, believe me,' _Jane's words rang in her ears as she tore her eyes off his person.

Now that Elizabeth's mind was somewhat at ease and the prospect of a trip to the beautiful shores of Devonshire had brought her liveliness back, she and Jane had again fell back into their old pattern of talking for hours and sharing every detail of their lives with each other. During one of those heart to heart chats, when she had vented her anger on Mr. Darcy, Jane had tried to calm her down by briefly touching upon a few things from the lost time. She told her about her trip to Derbyshire with the Gardiners, and how they had gone to Mr. Darcy's estate there and found him most amiable. Elizabeth had felt a deep mortification at this piece of information, she could hardly believe that she went to Mr. Darcy's estate, let alone interacted with him there. Her anxiety that night had reached such a height that it had resulted in a fierce headache that did not subside on its own and they had to summon Dr. Jones early the next day for fear of something dreadful happening. Elizabeth shook her head at the memory of that night, after that episode Jane had refrained from telling her anything else, and indeed Elizabeth herself had not tried to dwell on or ask about the forgotten time since she had no intention of getting ill before reaching Torquay.

"I will," Mr. Bingley said loud enough for every one to hear in the silent church.

Elizabeth looked up in time to watch him kiss Jane's hand, she smiled contentedly at Jane's glowing countenance and quickly stepped towards the smiling couple to offer her congratulations.

"Dearest Jane," she quickly kissed her cheek and held both her hands in hers, "my heartiest congratulations." Jane squeezed her hands and quickly turned towards a squealing Mrs. Bennet. Elizabeth stepped towards Mr. Bingley and smiled and shook hands with him without saying anything, indeed she had no words. She felt Mr. Darcy take a step towards Mr. Bingley and turned around to talk with the other guests.

Everyone then proceeded to partake in the wedding breakfast at Longbourn. The breakfast itself was a revelation on a lot of levels for Elizabeth, most of them regarding Mr. Darcy. Apparently he was full of surprises today, not only did he try to make conversation with Lydia, he also was extremely kind towards herself as she had another one of her dizzying spells, holding her hand and offering her wine. _'Oh how could I?' _Elizabeth fanned her heated cheeks with her hands as she watched Mr. Darcy's retreating back. She could not believe how tightly she had held his warm hand, her own still tingled. She looked up to find him talking amiably to her Uncle Gardiner.

"A remarkable man, is he not Lizzy?" Mrs. Gardiner said taking a seat on her table. Elizabeth blushed at getting caught staring at a man, a man too that she disliked vehemently. She sighed as she realized that was probably not true anymore.

"I did not know he was on such intimate terms with my Uncle," she said in a surprised voice, "and the children," her eyes turning towards where Mr. Darcy picked up young Alfred and stood him on the chair, as twelve year old Susan measured the still quite obvious difference in their heights.

"Oh you would be amazed at how good he is with them," Mrs. Gardiner said fondly, "Emma has already made him an offer of marriage," she laughingly referred to her youngest, a five year old girl, "which he refused on the grounds of already being engaged."

"And is he really engaged?" Elizabeth turned towards her Aunt in shock.

"No indeed," she eyed her carefully, "he said it in jest."

"I did not know he could joke," Elizabeth said somewhat derisively.

"Then I suggest you rethink your ideas about Mr. Darcy, Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner said in a rather stern tone, "you have misjudged the poor man excessively."

"Aunt Madeline," she cried, "not you too, is it not enough that he has managed to convert Jane to his cause?"

"Do you not remember anything from our trip to Lambton, Lizzy," she asked eagerly, bending a little forward, "anything at all?"

"No," Elizabeth shook her head, "Jane does not say anything, as per the doctor's orders, and I just asked Mr. Darcy, but he made some excuse about having to say farewell to the 'happy couple' and ran away to entertain your children instead, and I would ask you but I know you would not say anything either," she said pitifully.

"Maybe it is better this way," Aunt Gardiner said standing up and waving to her husband, "you would remember everything in time, just do not push yourself darling." Elizabeth's eyes followed her as she walked towards her family, Mr. Darcy was not with them anymore.

Elizabeth stood up and thankfully nothing swam before her. She looked towards where the bride and groom were standing previously, now it was only Mr. Bingley among his ton acquaintance and a haughty looking Miss Bingley, holding court in Jane's absence. Elizabeth looked around for Jane and found her standing a little detached from the crowd, deep in conversation with Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth scowled at their backs, _'what does Mr. Darcy mean by monopolizing Jane's time on her wedding day?' _She huffed, slowly approaching her sister to tear her away from him.

"…sorry too that Miss Darcy could not come," Jane said a little sadly. _'Why would Jane be sad if Miss Darcy could not come, are they friends, are they even acquainted?' _Elizabeth thought, surprised as she took one more step towards them.

"I hope you understand her reasons, Miss Ben…Mrs. Bingley," Mr. Darcy quickly covered his near slip.

"Oh I do," Jane said with feeling, "and I assure you that I feel it just as keenly, to think that on this day you and…I…I do not have words Mr. Darcy. I hope you know my thoughts on the subject." Elizabeth almost gasped out loud, _'what thoughts? What subject? What is Jane on about?'_

"Mrs. Bingley," Mr. Darcy's deep voice lowered down a little, as he bent slightly towards Jane, "even though this day is not what we, you and I, hoped it to be, and the future is uncertain yet," here he stopped to exhale as Elizabeth's every sense rushed towards her ears, "I would like you to know that I am heartily ashamed of any disservice that I have done you in the past, you must know that I hold you in the highest regard now and knowing you has been an honour." His voice held such emotion that for a moment she could not move, and then every fiber of her being was shouting out at the impropriety of Mr. Darcy's speech to a married woman and Jane's easy acceptance of it. _'What is going on,' _she screamed inwardly, as Jane turned her tear filled eyes towards Mr. Darcy. _'Can Mr. Darcy have feelings for Jane?' _

"I have already said goodbye to Bingley, I would now bid you adieu Mrs. Bingley, and would expect the pleasure of your company at Pemberley at your earliest availability after Christmas." He said in even tones now.

"Of course Mr. Darcy, but do not forget that you have promised to visit us first, after we return from Italy," she returned equally.

"You do not think it would be too soon?" He asked hesitantly.

"No indeed, I think it would be exactly the right time," she smiled as both of them turned around. Elizabeth quickly had to school her features into nonchalance, and pretend as if she had just come upon them. Mr. Darcy quickly bowed at them both and hastened away.

"Oh Lizzy," she watched in surprise as Jane's features got overspread with a deep sadness, "I have so much to tell you."

"Do you?" Elizabeth said doubtfully, "then why do you not?"

"I will my sweet," she said looking towards her groom, "but only after your nerves are strong enough, and now you must excuse me, Mr. Bingley wants me." Elizabeth watched Jane thoughtfully as she saw the look of love that Jane gave Mr. Bingley.

Was her mind playing tricks on her, she thought as she moved towards a chair. The guests were leaving one by one, she sat there blankly as the bride and groom left for Netherfield, Jane was going to come and say her final farewells in a few days, before leaving for Italy, so she did not feel compelled to move, indeed she felt too agitated to do so. The strange bond between Mr. Darcy and Jane was perplexing her. She watched absently as the chairs and tables were carried away by the workmen. The possibility of Mr. Darcy falling in love with the sister of the woman he had professed **ardent love **for, was deeply disturbing. But maybe she was just overthinking it, it was obvious that he held Jane in high esteem, and as her husbands closest friend and confidant, it was not inappropriate for him to appreciate her, indeed he did not say anything that was even remotely unsuitable.

Elizabeth quietly got up and started moving towards the woods, it had been too long since she had gone there and she desperately needed to clear her head. She kept on walking deeper and deeper into the woods, till she reached a clearing. Her eyes widened as she saw Mr. Darcy on one knee by a fallen branch, staring blankly at it, his face devoid of its usual mask of haughtiness.

"Mr. Darcy?" She called out in surprise, stepping closer. He quickly looked up as his expression changed from pain to worry.

"Miss Bennet," he said standing up quickly but gracefully, "You should not be out here alone."

"I am not alone," she said meaningfully, getting a little irritated at his concern.

"You know what I mean, Miss Bennet," he said tiredly, "come, let us go back to the house." He stepped towards her.

"No," she said hotly, "you go, I want to be alone."

"I am afraid I cannot allow that," he said firmly as he took one more step towards her, bringing him close enough to touch her if he wanted.

"And what makes you think that I would need your permission to do anything?" She felt her reserve against him melting away by his nearness, so she raised her voice to assure herself that she still disliked him.

Just then there was a sudden commotion in the trees when a flock of birds flew away, she watched in wonder as Mr. Darcy's face lost all colour, turning to a deathly pallor. He quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards himself, turning his eyes up towards the tree to see what had caused the commotion. Elizabeth gasped as she collided with his hard chest, not knowing what was happening, strange tremors running through her body.

"M-Mr. D-Darcy," she stammered when she had meant to sound stern. He quickly released her stepping back and looking aghast.

"I apologize Miss Bennet," his voice shook lightly as if he had just had a shock, "I…" his voice faltered and he averted his eyes from her. In that instant Elizabeth knew, she knew that he was there when **it **happened.

"It happened here, did it not?" She asked in a voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, looking at her with his deep blue eyes, that shone for some reason. "And you saw it," it was more a statement than a question. He nodded again but said nothing. This time it was Elizabeth who took a step towards him. "What were we doing together here Mr. Darcy?" She asked almost scared of the answer.

"Doing?" He asked puzzled, "we were not doing anything Miss Bennet, in fact you did not even know I was here, I saw you from afar and was about to come pay my regards when it happened."

"Oh," Elizabeth felt relief wash over her, but there was also a hint of disappointment, she did not know what it was for but there it was.

"I have often wondered what I did before I got struck," she said vaguely, "if I had a book with me, or was I just out for a walk." She shrugged her shoulders and looked towards him, "but I guess it does not matter now, its all gone, lost." She saw a shadow pass over Mr. Darcy's face.

"Someday," he said gravely, "you will remember, and maybe then you can decide whether it matters or not."

"Do you think my lost memories could be significant?" She asked, peeping into his deep eyes for answers.

"I just do not think that you should dismiss them out of hand," he shrugged his shoulders.

"Mr. Darcy do you know anythi…," she did not get to finish her sentence.

"Miss Bennet, " he cut her, as he raised one hand, "I know what your last memory was," Elizabeth winced, but he continued. "And though I cannot tell you how, I cannot stop myself from divulging that we are not enemies anymore, contrary to what your memories might lead you to believe." Elizabeth nodded and gave him a look of understanding, he just stared at her without returning it.

"I had guessed as much Mr. Darcy," she said in a lighter tone, the thoughts of his odd conversation with Jane far from her mind.

"You had," he looked surprised as both of them turned to walk towards the house, "how?"

"Woman's intuition," she said with just a hint of teasing in her tone, and then quickly changed the topic, "I thought you had left long ago, what are you still doing here?"

"I asked the Gardiners to accompany me back to town they needed some time to get their luggage together, so I decided to visit the…ahem…place where…um…there was that bench," he finished quickly. Elizabeth nodded and looked sideways at him and tripped, but steadied herself before falling. Mr. Darcy quietly offered her his arm that she hesitantly took, an instant peace falling over her.

That night after the house was empty, she laid in bed thinking of the wedding, Jane, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy. So it was no wonder that she dreamed of him too, what was a wonder was the vivid dreams she had about him. In one dream, she saw Jane dancing with Mr. Darcy and then there was another in which she found herself in the same clearing, among the trees, with Mr. Darcy, holding her in his arms as they stood awash in sunlight, kissing her on every bit of exposed skin. She woke up with a start, her hand on her heart, trying unsuccessfully to quiet it down.

**Next Chapter: Traveling to the Colliers and Traveling with the Trents**


	26. Chapter 26

**Memory reference:**** Chapter 5, the scene in the bookshop. Elizabeth's POV****.**

**Chapter 26: Traveling to the Colliers and Traveling with the Trents**

The carriage rolled along the cliffs surrounding Torquay with its wooded estuaries and sandy beaches. Darcy looked outside the carriage at the darkening sky, and then back at the excitedly peeping out Georgiana. He smiled, both of them had last come here before their father's death six years ago. It was a very pleasant trip with beautiful memories scattered around the beaches and cliffs of Devonshire. Zack and Izzie had made sure that they enjoyed that summer thoroughly. He smiled again as he remembered his father's shocked countenance when he had found his children's pale complexions browned to perfection.

"How much longer is it going to be William?" Georgiana was almost hanging outside the window.

"A half an hour till we reach Highcombe and a quarter hour after that to Brookridge Hall," he took out his pocket watch and squinted at it in the dim light.

"Oh I cannot wait to see Bella, Irene and Aunt Izzie," she clasped her hands together in excitement.

"And what of the rest of them?" Darcy raised an eyebrow at this blatant subtraction of most of the names of the house's occupants.

"Oh all right," she wrinkled her nose, "I cannot wait to see Uncle Zack, Mark and Ilythia either."

"I am glad we came early," Darcy said contentedly, "the Colliers are exactly what we needed right now." Georgiana nodded.

"And we have not met Irene's fiancée yet either," Georgiana said closing the window, "Bella told me that they are really nice people."

"I am sure they are," Darcy said thoughtfully, "I do not think Zack would have consented otherwise."

"It is a good thing that he is in the Navy too, he can stay near Irene that way," she said in the mature style of someone much older. Darcy's eyes twinkled.

"I cannot believe you came up with this statement quite on your own," he teased, and she blushed.

"I did not," she conceded abashedly, "Bella said she heard Aunt Izzie say this to Ilythia."

"Look," Darcy pointed at a building coming into perspective a little further ahead, "we are almost there."

They stepped out as the carriage came to a halt in front of the main door of Brookridge Hall. It was an old building , large and somewhat haunted looking from the outside, but perfectly comfortable and decorated in the latest trends from the inside. The exterior of the building was one of the eccentricities of Zackary Collier, who had a strange obsession for the eerie. Darcy handed Georgiana out as a small bundle of white collided headlong into her, shrieks and squeals were heard all over the place. He left the two young girls to their rather too voluble welcome of each other and turned towards the sensible members of the family.

"Izzie," he said with great feeling as he engulfed the Amazon of a woman in his embrace and kissed the top of her head.

"My little Willie," she brought his forehead down to her lips and kissed him there. Darcy coloured slightly and groaned in protest.

"Just be glad that you are not Marki-mark, Darcy," Marcus Collier, better known as Mark clapped him on the shoulder as he stepped towards him. Darcy rolled his eyes and grabbed the hand of the beautiful woman standing next to Mark, touching it lightly with his lips and smiling fondly at Ilythia.

"I am glad that you are come William," she smiled her typical half smile that seldom reached her eyes nowadays as she squeezed his hand. Darcy nodded and turned towards Irene, who raised her hand a little shyly towards him.

"Where is Zack?" He asked as they moved inside to settle down in the comfortable front parlour.

"He recently acquired a new tome on how to detect a phantom presence and is trying to memorize it, while taking small breaks for dinner," Isabel Collier replied tolerantly as they all settled down around the hearth, even though the weather was mild as compared to the North, it had acquired a certain chill as the evening wore on.

Dinner was a pleasant affair, with Zackary Collier regaling them with all the ghost stories he knew. Everyone except Georgiana heartily enjoyed, for she was the only one who took these stories seriously, even fourteen year old Isabella, named after her mother but called Bella to avoid confusion, knew better than to get scared.

"And everyone knows why he married Mother, here," Mark sipped his wine and looked about mischievously.

"Why?" Bella asked playfully, even though she knew what was coming.

"He thought she was a ghost that is why," he slammed the goblet down as the room erupted into laughter.

"Surely you jest," Georgiana's eyes went round as she stared at her boyishly handsome cousin.

"Only in part," Zack ran his fingers through his now thinning, matted hair that was previously as brilliant as his son Mark's was now, "for the first time I ever saw her, I did think that she was a spirit of some kind."

"Oh Papa," Bella cried, fixing her father with her bright, green gaze, so like her twin siblings, "do tell again."

"Some other day little one, right now I have to get back to my book and these two tired children need to sleep too," he gestured towards Darcy and Georgiana.

"Georgie does not need to rest, do you Georgie?" She now turned her intent gaze towards a tired looking Georgiana who was too polite to admit fatigue. Darcy thanked God that he was a man and a lot older that the little fireball, otherwise he would have found himself doing her bidding as well.

Once in his chamber, he allowed his Valet to divest him of his clothes and quickly stepped into the steaming water, his face stripped of its mask like his body of clothes. It had been two days since Bingley's wedding and he had kept himself consciously busy so as not to think about his interactions with Elizabeth there, but not thinking about her was quite a difficult task. Now that he was at his leisure, he quickly lost himself in her thoughts.

She had looked especially lovely that day, with her hair loosely held together in a ribbon, her dark eyes glittering with happiness for her sister. He imagined her eyes looking back at him from under the water and slowly moved his hand on its surface, not wanting to create ripples. She had looked at him with varying emotions on that bright October morning. There was annoyance in her eyes when he had asked her about the sitting arrangements, embarrassment when they had talked about the novel, confusion as she had recalled that memory and finally with…he faltered in his thoughts as he failed to name the expression in her eyes when she had found her hand in his.

How delicate were her fingers, he trailed the pads of his fingers with his thumb, sighed and stepped out of the water accepting the bathing gown that his valet offered. He dried himself and changed into his night suit, dismissed his valet and sat down besides the fire. The Colliers had planned many activities for him and Georgiana for their stay. He knew that he was going to have a good time, well, as good a time as a man in his position could have, but he also knew that he would miss **her**, terribly.

He hoped that she did not hate him any more, their encounter in the woods had led him to hope that whenever he went back to Netherfield, she would accept him with civility, if not with love. Darcy was also optimistic that the time lapse between his next meeting with Elizabeth might lead her to remember at least some part of their time together, after all she had remembered where Georgiana placed her novels. He felt a little uncomfortable as he remembered the blatant lie that he had told Elizabeth about him happening upon her as she got hit by the tree branch. But he could not obviously have told her the truth, that would have shocked her immensely. He got up when sufficiently warmed, and walked towards the bed to get some sleep. Tomorrow they were to attend a dinner at Irene's fiancé Lt. James Trent's home and meet his family. Darcy yawned and stretched and then climbed onto the bed to go to sleep and dream of his Elizabeth.

…**..**

Due to inclement weather, Jane and Mr. Bingley's trip to Italy got delayed for a couple of weeks and that was how Elizabeth got to travel to London with them instead of her father as previously planned. Mr. Bingley, or Charles as she now called him, opted to ride instead of going in the carriage, thus providing the two sisters with a much needed privacy.

"Do you believe Rose would be much changed?" Jane asked while they were discussing Elizabeth's upcoming trip to Torquay.

"Not in her manners and disposition, I am sure," she smiled, "but maybe in appearance. It has, after all, been more than three years since we last met."

"I hope you have a pleasant trip Lizzy," Jane smiled too.

"And I know that it would be exceedingly pleasant," she tilted her head to one side, as her eyes sparkled with mischief, "just as I know that yours would be exceedingly romantic." Jane blushed prettily.

"You never know Lizzy," she said with a slightly teasing smile, "maybe yours would turn out to be romantic too."

"Oh I do not think so," she laughed, "they are such a small community at Highcombe, or so Rose tells me."

"And yet Mr. James Trent succeeded in engaging the affections of a beautiful young woman from a prestigious background," Jane argued, "if you are meant to be with someone, you would be with that person, no matter what the odds."

"All right Jane," she raised her hands in defeat, "maybe I will find **him, **there." Jane smiled and Elizabeth continued, "Jane do you think I should call James Lt. Trent now?"

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, "ask Rose, you never stood on ceremony with him anyhow."

The carriage stopped at the Gardiner's residence and both of them entered the small but well decorated and nicely maintained house with Mr. Bingley. The Gardiner children were overjoyed at their favourite cousins' visit, and promptly attached themselves to their limbs. Mrs. Gardiner had had a wonderful meal prepared and they all had a nice time before Mr. and Mrs. Bingley excused themselves in order to go to their house at Grosvenor Street. Jane was particularly excited since it was to be her first visit to their townhouse. So the farewells were made, as the sisters' eyes watered, for this was to be their last meeting till the time that Jane and Elizabeth came back from their respective trips. Elizabeth also excused herself after their departure, it was her first long excursion after the injury and she did not want to over exert.

…**..**

Elizabeth's time with the Gardiner's passed nicely. She communicated with Rose through notes, but the Trents had too many commitments in town as to make them unavailable for a visit until the very day of their departure. So Elizabeth's mornings were often spent having pleasant conversations with her Aunt, playing silly games with her cousins and sometimes trips to the busy London markets to acquire accessories for her stay at Torquay. It was on one of these sprees that they stopped near a famous bookshop.

"Oh Aunt look," Elizabeth said eagerly, "a bookshop. Can we go in for a bit?"

"Of course," Mrs. Gardiner replied pleasantly, "if you are not too fatigued."

"I am never too fatigued to explore books Aunt Madeline," she dimpled and they climbed up the few steps to the shop.

As soon as Elizabeth stepped inside, a strange sense of familiarity engulfed her. Without knowing what she did, she went straight to the back of the shop and stared at the many volumes by Shakespeare lined up there. Elizabeth knew instinctively that something had happened here, she tried to remember but nothing came to her mind. She rounded the shelf and came to the other side, as she observed the titles of Novels by Mrs. Broadhurst, but nothing seemed familiar. Exasperated she was about to turn around when her eyes caught a title, _The Hidden Passions of Miss Penelope Chambers_. Elizabeth stared at the book for a while, sure that she had never read or seen it before but sure as well that she had at least heard of it.

"Lizzy," Mrs. Gardiner called her from behind, "have you found anything you want?"

"No Aunt," she turned around, dejected, "can we go home now? I feel a bit tired."

"Of course darling," she took her hand as they walked out of the shop, "you visited this shop on your last trip, but came out without getting any book that day as well."

Elizabeth nodded, knowing that something of import happened at this shop but not knowing what it was. She tried not to think about it as they climbed up the carriage, but her mind kept drifting back to the novel she had spotted there so that by the time they got home, her head was throbbing with the effort of remembering. The Gardiners had a dinner at their house that evening for some of Mr. Gardiner's friends, therefore Elizabeth thought it best to rest a little before getting ready for that event.

When Elizabeth entered the Gardiners parlour that evening, most of the guests had already arrived. She quietly seated herself in a corner, as most of the company gathered was much older than her, the women interested only in talking about their children and household problems and the gentlemen in their businesses. Elizabeth quietly listened to the conversations going on around her until one sentence uttered by Mr. Simmons got her attention.

" Contrary to what some people might think, he is a gentleman," he said about some acquaintance of his.

"Surely you exaggerate Simmons," Mr. Gardiner said sardonically.

Elizabeth frowned, in a flash she felt herself transported behind a bookshelf and could hear vague voices seeping into her ears from somewhere.

_**Contrary to what some people might think, I am a gentleman…**_

…_**you had given her up…you do not want to see her… **_

She gripped the chair firmly, as more sentences were uttered.

…_**it is too new to dismiss…**_

…_**you ready to fall in love again?**_

Elizabeth held her breath as a deep voice whispered in her ears,

_**Love did not bring me any pleasure…I wash my hands off it…**_

"Lizzy," she opened her eyes to find Mrs. Gardiner looking at her worriedly, "are you all right?"

"I am afraid my headache has become worse," she replied weakly, "May I be excused Aunt Madeline?"

"Of course darling," she said quickly, "I shall call Bertha to take you upstairs."

"No indeed," she got up quickly and hid her blurred vision behind a smile, "I shall manage on my own."

She exited the room slowly and then climbed up the stairs, leaning heavily on the railing. Once in her room, she threw herself on the bed and held her swimming head in her hands. She did not want to think about what had just happened, lest she should have an attack or a seizure of some kind, so she laid still on the bed emptying her mind of all thought, falling into a deep sleep.

…**.**

Elizabeth woke up early the next morning, her stomach grumbling, with hunger as she had not taken dinner the previous evening, but without any trace of the dizziness she had felt the day before. She quickly dressed and went down. The house was asleep, as it was still early and last night's dinner must have fatigued the adults. Bertha served her jam tarts and a hot cup of tea. She stared out the window, last night's strange experience coming to the fore of her thoughts.

It could not have been a dream since she was wide awake, it could however be a memory, but of what? She took a small bite of the delicious tart and nibbled at it as she recalled the voices again. There was one male voice and another female, both sounded cultured and familiar, especially the masculine one. She added sugar and milk to her tea and stirred, it could be a conversation that she had overheard somewhere, without actually knowing the people between whom it was carried out. _'Yes,' _she thought satisfied, _'that must be it, I must have heard someone talk about their life at the book shop and somehow the conversation was stored in my subconscious.' _She sipped the hot liquid, a load moving off her chest at the thought of the conversation being carried out among strangers.

_**Love did not bring me any pleasure…I wash my hands off it…**_

Unbidden the deep, rich male voice resonated in her ears again, dampening her spirits a little. She felt sorry for the owner of the voice, a tragic figure, she imagined, probably jilted in love.

_**Contrary to what some people might think, I am a gentleman…**_

Elizabeth knitted her brows in concentration as she looked out at the now awakening street outside, this voice was similar to the one that had offered her the letter, and the mode in which she had recalled the two incidents was also similar. She shook her head, and got up from her chair, determining not to think about it till she was safely at Highcombe, Torquay.

…**..**

"Rose," Elizabeth flew into the arms of Miss Rosalind Trent as soon as she entered the Gardiner's house with her mother and Brother.

"Lizzy," she held her at an arms length after embracing her, "let me look at you, you have not changed a bit." She declared.

Elizabeth laughed and curtseyed to the other two figures smiling at her from the doorway. Mrs. Gardiner led them all to the parlour and offered them tea as everyone got settled. Elizabeth now observed her friend at leisure. Rose had changed but little in the past three years except that she was now better dressed and more confident about herself than before. She had medium brown hair and hazel eyes, a fresh complexion that was beautifully tanned due to frequent walks on the beach, Elizabeth mused. Rose was not classically beautiful, but she had such pleasant manners that endeared her everywhere she went. Like Elizabeth, she was also short in height but not as light in figure as her. She had often envied Jane and Charlotte their tall statures in the past, unlike Elizabeth, who was always confident of her appearance, no matter how tall or beautiful the other women maybe.

"I cannot thank you enough for asking me to visit Mrs. Trent," Elizabeth looked gratefully at the kind, plump woman sitting besides Mrs. Gardiner.

"Oh hush child," Mrs. Gardiner looked at her fondly, "as soon as Rose told me about your injury, I knew that you needed sea air to get better, and it had been such a long time since we had seen any of you. How is your Mama?"

"She is well, I thank you," Elizabeth replied, "and in high spirits since Jane's wedding." Mrs. Trent smiled knowingly at her as Lt. Trent squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. Elizabeth turned towards him.

"I congratulate you on your engagement…err…Lt. Trent," she fumbled when it came to calling his name as previously he was simply James to her.

"Dash it Lizzy," he jumped a little, "you are not going to address me in so pompous a manner, are you?" Elizabeth grinned happily at the pleasant faced young man looking at her in shock.

"I would have to ask your fiancée about it," she wriggled her eyebrows, "she might not take kindly to me addressing you so informally." Rose gave a peel of laughter at that.

"You have assessed dear Irene's disposition quite well for someone not having met her yet," Rose said looking at her brother with a twinkle in her eyes. Lt. Trent opened his mouth to say something, but his mother effectively silenced the young people by getting up.

"Mrs. Gardiner, it has been a pleasure meeting you again," she turned towards her hostess, "but I am afraid, we had better start as it is quite a long journey to Torquay."

"Of course," Mrs. Gardiner got up and said graciously as everyone walked towards the door. Farewells were made with many instructions on Mrs. Gardiner's part on how to take care of her health and many promises by Elizabeth that she would. Her luggage was quickly loaded on the waiting Trent carriage and the travelers stepped inside it and seated themselves. It was going to be a long journey and Mrs. Trent did not want Elizabeth to feel tired, so they had decided to make frequent breaks and take their time getting to their destination. Elizabeth thanked them again and again until Rose admonished her for being so formal. After that they fell back into their routine of joking, laughing, teasing and whispering in each other's ears. With time spent in such felicity and mutual companionship, the cliffs of Torquay appeared faster than they had assessed.

**A/N: ****From now on the story is going to take place at the fictional town of Highcombe, Torquay. The names of the Collier's home Brookridge Hall and the Trent's home Sleighton Manor are also imaginary, but if by any chance they happen to be real places, I would like to say that like Austen's characters, I do not own these either.**

**Next Chapter: Shock and Awe**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27: Shock and Awe**

Darcy spurred Hermes on, he had always been a sore loser, maybe it was because he had never lost a horse race ever since he was ten years old. But Ilythia was good, '_even for a woman,' _he thought and then caught himself, _'Elizabeth would hate such a sentiment.' _He turned his head around and saw her approaching in a blur of red hair and green riding habit. Darcy whipped his head back and sped on, till he reached the start of the woods. He halted and turned around as Ilythia came nearer on her beautiful chestnut. He jumped off and tied his horse to a nearby tree.

"Do not look so superior William," Ilythia said irritably, observing his smug expression and jumped off her own horse. Darcy shook his head in denial and took the reins off her hands, tying the horse to another tree nearby. They quietly stood together, catching their breaths and then Darcy offered his arm for Ilythia to take and they started towards the woods.

"Why are you unhappy Ilythia?" He asked watching her closely. Ever since coming to Torquay, Darcy had noticed a certain melancholy about her. It was true that like him, she was not much of a talker, but she had never been despondent. There had always been a silent energy about her, he could not fathom why she was so morose.

"Do you not know?" She answered his question with a question of her own, in a slightly sulky voice.

"What has he done **now**?" Darcy sighed and asked in exasperation.

"You know what he did William," she said hotly, her grip on his arm increasing, "he did not come to visit us in London."

"I thought you wanted your engagement to be secret," Darcy looked at her in confusion.

"That has not stopped him from appearing in my vicinity before."

"What explanation did he give for not coming?"

"None," she said in a flat tone now, "he has not been in touch after that, he has not written to me in months William. What am I supposed to think?" She had tears in her eyes now.

"Maybe it is his way of showing you that he cannot wait any longer," Darcy suggested weakly, looking at her in concern. She did not reply and left his side to stand by a tree, leaning back on it. "Ilythia," Darcy began in a conciliatory tone, "have you ever thought that your condition for marriage is rather too hard?"

"You are saying this," she looked at him with her green eyes blazing, "you, who has supported me in my decision so far?"

"Yes," said Darcy, stepping nearer to her, "I am. I know that I have supported you in this, but…," he faltered and stared far away into the thickening trees, "some recent events have shown me that any time that you can have with your loved ones, should not be wasted."

"But Aunt Myrtle…," she began but Darcy stopped her by raising his hand.

"Aunt Myrtle might yet live to be a hundred years Ilythia," he said gravely, "you must ask him to accept my offer of establishing you two at Pearl Cottage."

"I have," she said exasperated, "he is just too proud to accept your help."

"But you must consider that Aunt Myrtle might leave everything to some other relative of hers," he said in an irritated voice now, "what would that leave you with?"

"So is it all my fault?" She looked forlornly at him. Darcy quickly grabbed her hand in his own.

"Of course not," he said consolingly, "I will work this out soon, to the satisfaction of both you and him. And he will write soon, I am sure for I have never seen anyone more besotted."

"Oh William," she pressed his fingers with her own, and said with feeling, "I wish you were my brother, you have always been the anchor that keeps me standing. I do not know what we might have done without your silent support all these years."

"I am your brother Ilythia," he replied earnestly.

"Let us go back now," she smiled at him, "Irene and Mark must have come back from Sleighton Manor by now."

He nodded and they walked in a companionable silence towards their horses, untying and mounting them and then trotting back towards Brookridge Hall. As they handed their horses to the groom and walked towards the house, they found Lt. Trent seated with Mark and Irene on the front terrace of the house. Darcy and Ilythia exchanged greetings with him and settled down.

"How was your trip to town, Lt. Trent?" Ilythia asked pleasantly, for a change, as Darcy's words had given her hope.

"It was alright I suppose," he mocked, "the shopkeepers in town must be happy."

"Miss Trent must be happy too," she smiled, "your guest and Miss Trent are long time friends, I believe."

"Oh yes," he looked surreptitiously at his fiancée who was frowning for some reason," since childhood."

Darcy observed the scene playing out in front of him with interest, Irene's tell tale scowl was proof that she was not happy about a young woman staying in the same house as her fiancé. She had always been of a slightly insecure bent, completely opposite to her older siblings, who were too confident to waste even a second of their lives on petty insecurities. The boisterous young lieutenant was now looking a little uncomfortable as well.

"Do not be jealous Irene," Mark never gave up any chance to goad his sisters. His green eyes shone with mischief, "James is your fiancé after all, this new girl cannot steal him away, even though they are living under the **same roof** and she will spend **more time** with him than **you**." Darcy groaned at this blatant attempt at making Irene fly into a fit of fury, Lt. Trent's eyes widened to a dangerous diameter.

"Do not be ridiculous Mark," Ilythia admonished her twin.

"You would be glad to know Mark that I do not become easily jealous," Irene said hotly and stood up. Darcy had to quickly school his features to some semblance of solemnity, for nothing could be farther from the truth than Irene's words. "Come James, let us take a stroll," she called out to her fiancé and Lt. Trent jumped up at this oppourtunity of getting away from his troublesome brother-in-law to be, and of getting some time alone with his mercurial fiancée.

"Where are Georgie and Bella?" Darcy asked Mark.

"Heaven knows what Bella is putting poor Georgie through," Mark chuckled.

Darcy was not spending enough time with Georgiana ever since they had come here as Bella usually kept her busy and he himself spent more time with the older Colliers. _'Tomorrow morning, I will go out for a walk or a ride with her' _he decided and then got up to go inside and finish the game of chess that he had started with Izzie.

…

"I would not race you William," Georgiana shouted from quite a way behind him. Darcy pulled the reins of Hermes and brought his horse to a quick stop, after turning it towards a huffing Georgiana.

"I apologize child," he smiled at her petulant expression, "I forgot that you do not like to race."

"Even if I did like it," she wrinkled her nose as she put Pandora in step with Hermes, "I would be no match for you."

"That is true," he straightened his shoulders in mock pride.

"Fitzwilliam Darcy," Georgiana cried, "Elizabeth was right, you are the soul of arrogance."

Immediately his face clouded over. Elizabeth, her beloved name that he was not allowed to say anymore. He looked ahead and saw nothing not the woods, nor the cliffs, all he saw was emptiness, just like his life was empty without her. He had tried to stay positive about being forced to stay away from her, and it had worked for a while too, but his forbearance was running thin with every passing day.

"William," he turned towards Georgiana's worried countenance, "I apologize, I should not have brought her name up."

"No, it is alright," he tried to smile but failed.

"If I go hide into the woods, would you come look for me?" She tried to change the mood by offering to play a childish game. He nodded and she directed her horse towards the woods. Darcy followed when she disappeared, trying to push any depressing thoughts he had out of his mind for Georgiana's sake. As he neared the trees, he spotted Pandora. Darcy quickly galloped towards her, dismounted and tied Hermes to a tree and looked around for his sister.

"Wiiillliiiaaammm," she squealed from somewhere, "come find meeeeee."

Darcy smiled and moved towards where the trees were thicker. He tried not to make any sound as he stealthily walked towards the trees with stout barks. Just then he had a brief glimpse of yellow muslin behind a tree.

"I can see you now," he called out, "there is no need to hide anymore." But Georgiana did not come out of her hiding place. Darcy kept on nearing the tree. "Come out on your own, or I would have to drag you out," he threatened playfully, but still no answer came.

Darcy now stood right behind the tree Georgiana was hiding behind, he could even see her arm, clad in a burgundy bolero, but she was making no move to step forward. Darcy took one last step that brought him closest to the tree, without exposing him. He bent forward, grabbed her hand from behind and yanked her around the tree towards himself. But suddenly Georgiana was much lighter than he had assumed for she as good as flew into his arms.

Darcy looked down with laughing blue eyes at Georgiana and his breath got knocked out of his lungs, for the woman staring up at him with her dark eyes widened in astonishment was most definitely not his sister.

…**..**

Elizabeth woke up a little before noon, on her first day at Sleighton Manor. It seemed a little cloudy outside. She rubbed her eyes groggily and threw back the covers. The journey had taken its toll on her at last when they reached Highcombe. Her headache was so severe the previous night that she could hardly manage a civil greeting for Admiral Trent. Rose had immediately taken her to the guest bedroom, as the local doctor was summoned and her condition explained to him. He did not see any infirmity that could not be cured with a lot of rest and a little laudanum. So it was that Elizabeth had slept like a log for at least twelve hours, and now woke up thoroughly refreshed.

She stepped off the bed and went to wash herself and prepare for the morning. As she reached the dressing room she found that her dresses were already hanging in the cupboard and her trunk was sitting in a corner. She found Jane's present on a shelf too. Jane had given it to her before they left for town, and had made her promise that she would not open it till she reached Torquay. Elizabeth had thought this request odd but had readily complied. Now she tore off the covering and found a thick rolled up paper inside. She untied the ribbon and smoothed the paper in her hands, a pleasant flutter went through her heart, it was a sketch of her with sparkling eyes and smiling lips. She wondered when she sat for a sketch and for whom as she squinted at it, there were the artists initials at the bottom of the paper, G. A. D.

Elizabeth placed the sketch on a table nearby and opened the note that came with it in Jane's hand. It simply said, _"To help you remember." _Elizabeth picked up the sketch, that showed her to utmost advantage and stared at it for a while, sighed and carefully put it away in a drawer. She chose a pale blue morning dress, got ready and went down. A maid showed her to the Trent's morning room, where both mother and daughter were assembled. Rose quickly approached her and took her hand in a soft grasp.

"How do you feel now Lizzy?" She asked in concern and led her to a comfortable sofa.

"Perfectly fine, I thank you," Elizabeth smiled at her.

"You gave us quite a fright yesterday," she sighed in relief now.

"I am glad you are feeling better child," Mrs. Trent said pleasantly, "now tell me what you would have for breakfast and I shall tell Betsy to bring it."

"Oh anything Mrs. Trent," Elizabeth said a little embarrassed at the late hour.

"Mama, would you please have her breakfast sent to the library terrace?" Rose asked getting up and pulling Elizabeth up with her, "you know how she loves both books and the outdoors." Elizabeth smiled gratefully at such cordiality and followed her hostess outside to the terrace.

"This reminds me of Netherfield," she said after sitting down on one of the two chairs with a modern looking coffee table.

"I believe that is why Papa acquired it."

"It is beautiful," Elizabeth said looking around at the vast grounds.

"I suppose," Rose shrugged her shoulders.

"Where is Lt. Trent?" She asked, reverting to the formal address.

"Oh, you missed meeting Mr. Mark Collier and James's fiancée," Rose sat a little forward, "both of them came to welcome us back to Highcombe."

"Really?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, "I had not hoped to meet the family this soon. Lt. Trent went with them, I suppose."

"Yes," Rose said a little mischievously, "he had to, otherwise he might have found himself a neck short."

"Surely you jest," Elizabeth smiled, "she cannot be that bad."

"Oh she is not bad at all, just a little too possessive for my taste," Rose said seriously this time, "she had a lot of questions about you, ranging from how you look to what your prospects are."

"It is a good thing then that I decided to call her fiancée Lt. Trent," Elizabeth's eyes twinkled, "or I might have found myself a neck short too." Both girls giggled as the maid came with Elizabeth's breakfast on a tray and served her.

"Tell me about the rest of the family," Elizabeth asked when the maid had gone.

"Well, Mr. Collier is a bit eccentric, obsessed with ghosts and the like."

"Is he?" Elizabeth smiled as she buttered her muffin, "and Mrs. Collier?"

"She is the tallest woman I have ever seen," Rose smiled, "and the most genial."

"What about the daughters?" Elizabeth asked before sinking her teeth into the freshly baked muffin.

"Miss Ilythia Collier is undoubtedly the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, except, maybe Jane, but then their appearances have nothing in common besides perfect figures." Rose said thoughtfully, "she is reserved, perfectly polite though, but likes to stay at a distance. We are still Miss Trent and Miss Collier to each other after an acquaintance of more than three years."

"Is she proud?" Elizabeth asked, stirring the sugar in her tea, the haughty expression of a certain gentleman of her acquaintance coming to her mind suddenly.

"No," Rose replied firmly, "just reticent. The youngest, Isabella, however is a spoilt child, not fifteen yet."

"And the son?" Elizabeth asked as her eyes danced with mischief, "has he not taken the fancy of the great Miss Rosalind Trent?"

"Who Mark?" Rose jumped and she looked as though this was an unexpected question, "I mean Mr. Mark. Of course not Lizzy."

"And why not?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and drained her tea, putting the cup aside. "Is he not an amiable person."

"Oh very amiable," Rose replied quickly, "but I just do not hold him in any particular regard."

"Then why are you blushing?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at her friend.

"I am not blushing because of him," Rose pouted and Elizabeth's irises expanded.

"There is someone else you like?" She sat up and looked at her friend with dark penetrating eyes. Rose nodded and blushed some more. "Who is it Rose, you have to tell me."

"It is nothing I assure you," Rose raised her eyes to hers, "The Colliers have recently received some guests, and…," she hesitated a little before going on. "Its their cousin."

"Oh my Rose," Elizabeth grinned at her friend's flushed countenance, "and do you really love him?"

"Of course not Elizabeth Bennet," she scowled at her, "I hardly met him twice, before we left for town. I just…he is so…he is different from any gentleman of my acquaintance."

"Never you mind, I shall see for myself at soon enough," Elizabeth smiled smugly and Rose rolled her eyes.

"And what about you, have you not met any eligible bachelors after that epitome of agreeableness called Mr. Wickham left Meryton?" Rose attacked her in turn.

"I do not know about him being the 'epitome of agreeableness'," Elizabeth frowned as she recalled Jane's admonishments to Lydia when she was going on and on about the many virtues of Mr. Wickham one day. "Jane said something about him that led me to believe that maybe he was not as affable as we all thought."

"Oh well, I am sure you would find Mr. Mark Collier exactly to your liking," Rose wagged her eyebrows.

"I hope you are not turning into a matchmaker Miss Rose," Elizabeth looked sternly at her, "now show me some place where I can go for a walk, to indulge in the healthy sea air you lured me here with."

…**.**

Elizabeth went out for a walk, early the next morning. Sleighton Manor, the Trent's home, was made on rising ground and a delightful, little wooded area was right in front of it. She cautiously walked towards it, not wanting to risk a headache or a vertigo again. The damp air caressed her face and she could almost hear the waves crashing against the high cliffs, but that was only her imagination. She smiled as she reminded herself that Highcombe was at least five miles from the beach.

She traveled further, into the trees, inhaling the beautiful moist smell of the Pines. It seemed as though a lot had changed during the period she had no memory of, Mr. Darcy was not as bad as she had thought and Mr. Wickham was not what he seemed either. Elizabeth knitted her eyebrows in consternation, she still could not fathom how Mr. Wickham could not be what he appeared to be, his manner had always been so pleasant and his conversation so engaging.

She shrugged her shoulders, Mr. Wickham was hardly the most important matter in her life currently, indeed he never was. She picked up a pine cone in her hand and looked at it with mild interest, she wondered if her life would have been any different if she had not had that accident. Every brief recollection that she had had so far of the lost time, was dominated by a strange presence of a man. She could not deny the nagging feeling at the back of her mind anymore, she reclined her back on a broad barked tree, there was a man that she must have met in the past months, why else would that deep voice from her dreams sound familiar to her. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the voice from her visions.

"Wiiillliiiaaammm," a feminine voice called out from somewhere, jerking Elizabeth out of her thoughts, "come find meeeeee."

Elizabeth immediately felt uncomfortable for she did not feel up to confronting anyone presently. She had come to the woods in need of solitude and if there were other people around, that would not be possible. She decided to stay hidden behind her tree until the intruders went away. Just then someone else spoke out, in a decidedly male voice this time and much nearer than she had supposed anyone to be.

"I can see you now, there is no need to hide anymore."

Elizabeth stiffened and hoped against hope that she would not have to encounter anyone.

"Come out on your own, or I would have to drag you out," the voice now sounded alarmingly near, and shockingly familiar. _'This cannot be,' _Elizabeth felt numb as she mused on whose voice it could be, that sounded so familiar.

But her contemplation got rudely interrupted as strong fingers wrapped around her wrist and jerked her towards their owner. Elizabeth, unsuspecting of the probability of any such occourence, could not help but fall into the arms of the assailant. Surprised into a stupor, she looked up with shocked eyes and found two amazingly blue orbs boring into her. The amazement she felt in that moment was more than any she had ever felt before. She quickly jumped out of the almost embrace.

"Mr. Darcy," she managed to croak out.

"Miss Bennet?" He looked and sounded equally dazed.

"William," somebody called out from behind him before any of them could say anything else.

Elizabeth tilted her head a little to see who it was, just as Mr. Darcy turned around as well. A pair of large and still widening blue eyes stared back at her in the pretty face of a young girl, hardly seventeen or eighteen, wearing a dress quite similar to hers. Elizabeth's eyes expanded as she realized who the girl was.

"Georgiana?"

**Next Chapter: A Quarrel in the Rain**


	28. Chapter 28

**Memory reference: Chapter 13; Elizabeth and Darcy's surprise meeting at Pemberley & Chapter 19; the scene where Elizabeth and Darcy meet at the Gazebo before she leaves for Hertfordshire, Darcy's POV.**

**Chapter 28: A Quarrel in the Rain**

"Mr. Darcy," she croaked out.

"Miss Bennet?" He asked, dazed.

"William," Georgiana called out from behind him before any of them could say anything else. He was just turning around when Elizabeth said something that completely flummoxed him.

"Georgiana?" Her voice held a question, as well as doubt. Darcy briefly registered surprise mingled with unbounded joy on his sister's face before he turned around towards the bemused countenance of Elizabeth. It seemed that every time he thought that nothing would surprise him more, something occoured to flabbergast him further.

"Y-you…you…recognize me?" Georgiana took quick steps towards them, until she stood on level with Darcy, and asked the question that he wanted to as well.

"I…uh…err…yes," Elizabeth stammered out, "but I…I mean…I felt as though I knew your name, but I…," she faltered and took a deep breath, "I do not remember meeting you." She uttered the last part a little guiltily as Georgiana's countenance clouded over. Darcy closed his eyes for a moment and opened it to catch two pairs of bewildered eyes staring at him for answers. He wanted to run, he wanted to scream, why was **he** supposed to be the one with answers, why would no one answer **his** plea.

"Miss Bennet," he turned towards Elizabeth and said in a hollow voice, "allow me to introduce my sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Darcy," Elizabeth nodded and looked at Georgiana, trying to smile, she looked a little unsteady on her feet to Darcy.

"As it is mine, Miss Bennet," Georgiana said in a solemn voice, her face visibly paled at Elizabeth's formal address, thereby making it impossible for her to call her anything but a very proper **Miss Bennet**. She looked unhappily at him and he returned her look with a blank one of his own.

Numerous questions were circulating in Darcy's brain, plunging it into turmoil. Elizabeth being in Torquay alone was enough to astound him, but her presence in the woods so near Brookridge Hall had robbed him of any rational thought at the current moment. He had ran miles and miles away from her soothing companionship just to give her time to recuperate, he had avoided her lively company only to give her a chance to get her bearings together and he had risked his life's happiness by staying away from her just so that she could come to terms with the loss of her memories, but to what end? Here she was standing in front of him, looking utterly bewildered and absolutely adorable, in the last place that he had expected her to be.

"William," Georgiana called him in her soft, hesitant voice. Darcy tried to give her a reassuring look that came out looking slightly glazed. "I had better go now," she said bleakly, "Bella must be waiting for me."

He nodded, too stunned for speech, and turned towards Elizabeth. Darcy frowned, she seemed to be swaying slightly and her eyes had a faraway look in them.

"Miss Bennet," he called her, coming quickly out of the stupor her sudden appearance had thrown him in, "are you all right?"

"Yes," she blinked and shook her head slightly, "of course I am."

"You're not having another one of your dizzying spells are you?" He asked worriedly.

"N-no," she replied a little haltingly.

"May we escort you to where you are staying?" Darcy asked.

"I do not have to go far Mr. Darcy," she turned his offer down, a slight chill creeping up her voice, "I thank you but I can manage on my own."

"I assure you it will not be any trouble Miss Bennet," he pressed on, her suddenly pale countenance making him anxious for her safety.

"William," Georgiana called him again, "why do you not accompany Miss Bennet home, I can easily go back on my own."

Darcy turned towards Georgiana and saw her face suddenly transformed with hope, a silent argument passed between the siblings where he offered to go with her and she argued that Elizabeth needed him more. Exasperated, he gave in, nodded and turned towards Elizabeth to gauge her reaction to this scheme of theirs. He could not, after all, walk with her to where she was staying without her permission.

"Miss Darcy, this is wholly unnecessary, I am quite recovered now," she insisted, stepping closer to Georgiana.

"Recovered? Darcy asked sharply, "it means that you did have a dizzying spell." Elizabeth opened her mouth to deny, but he held up his hand to quiet her. He could see that she did not take kindly to such an offhand gesture, but her safety was prime in his eyes at that moment.

"I shall see you at home then Georgie," he told Georgiana, she nodded and looked towards Elizabeth.

"I hope that we shall meet again Miss Bennet," she uttered shyly.

"I am sure that we will," Elizabeth's features softened as she looked from Darcy to his sister.

Georgiana gave her a bashful smile and walked away towards where they had tied their horses earlier. Darcy turned towards Elizabeth and offered his arm, she hesitated only for a moment before gripping it tightly. Darcy marveled at his good luck on finding her so near when he had not even expected to see her for months yet.

"Which way Miss Bennet," his tone became gentle as he inhaled her scent.

"To the right Mr. Darcy," she replied in a slightly strained manner and they started walking towards where she had pointed. Darcy noticed that she was leaning on him, while previously whenever they had walked together in Kent and Pemberley she had only ever held on to him as a customary gesture. They walked on quietly for some time, each lost in their own reverie.

"I cannot tell you how amazed I am at finding you here," Elizabeth was first to break the silence.

"I can understand," he said equably as they cut through the woods, "as I return the sentiment. I also did not have any idea that you had plans to visit Torquay after your sister's wedding."

"I am staying at Sleighton Manor, the Trents are old friends from Hertfordshire," she informed Darcy as she looked up at him.

"Indeed," he was surprised yet again that day for what seemed like a thousandth time, "so you are the guest Trent was telling us about yesterday."

"You are acquainted with Jame…Lt. Trent, then?" Darcy watched jealously as she blushed for some reason. He nodded a little stiffly.

"He is engaged to be married to my cousin Miss Irene Collier."

**"You **are the Collier's cousin?" Elizabeth's face registered extreme surprise and a little distaste, as if she had found something that she did not approve of.

"You disapprove?" He asked, a little perturbed.

"Of course not," she blushed again, this time probably with embarrassment.

"Mrs. Collier is my Aunt, on my father's side," he informed her needlessly, trying to keep the conversation on neutral ground as the trees thinned around them and the ground started to rise. "You should not have come so far alone," he continued in a disapproving tone.

"Why not?" Elizabeth's eyebrow quickly formed an annoyed arch, "I am not an invalid that needs to be attended to all the time."

"But you are still recovering," he argued, ignoring her rising ire, "you just had a vertigo, if I am not much mistaken."

"I have enough people instructing me on what to do and what not to do in my **condition **as it is Mr. Darcy," she said hotly, unconsciously increasing her grip on his arm, "I do not need one more I assure you."

"And I assure you that you do," he said trying to hide a smile at her petulance, "for the admonishments of even those **enough people **seem ineffective in this scenario."

"Do you presume to instruct me on my behaviour?" She jerked her arm away, eyes flashing indignantly as they came into view of Sleighton Manor. Darcy sighed in exasperation as they stopped in mid-stride, _'stubborn as a mule.'_

"Only where it concerns your health, Miss Bennet," unconsciously his expression became haughty, _'there is no pleasing you, is there?' _he thought with mounting irritation as they stood facing each other.

"I do not require your conceited strictures on how to comport myself, Mr. Darcy," she was in a rage now. Darcy felt his own hackles rising, _'surely he had not said anything that was not kindly meant.' _But Elizabeth Bennet just loved to twist his words until they suited her perception of his proud demeanor.

"I was not aware of saying anything that was even remotely arrogant, **today **Miss Bennet," he said, hinting briefly at what had passed between them at Kent, as the clouds darkened overhead like his mood, "but you have a strange flair for distorting my words till even I myself cannot recognize them." He knew that he should have stopped talking long ago, but his pent up frustration was coming to the fore fully at that moment. It seemed as though he had **also** lost his memory for his mind became embroiled only in what had happened almost six months ago.

"I do not twist your words," she said angrily, "merely comprehend them perfectly."

"And have you never been wrong before?" He questioned sardonically, in a voice that shook slightly with suppressed ire.

"Not during our acquaintance," she confronted him directly.

"I am sure that you do not leave here for some months yet Miss Bennet," Darcy's brilliant blue eyes darkened to a midnight blue as he said his piece, incensed, "that shall give us plenty of time to get reacquainted and also to assess who is proud, who is arrogant, who is conceited and **who is wrong," **he fairly minced the last three words.

"Are you suggesting that I would be the one who shall be proven wrong?" She asked him incredulously, both of them were now standing within an inch of each other, chests heaving and eyes flashing.

"I would not dare suggest anything so wholly impossible," he mocked, bending towards her, oblivious to her angry charm for the first time since they had met, for even in Hunsford, when Darcy had proposed, he had not been immune to her challenging beauty.

"What more proof do we need of you arrogance than your easy assurance of coming out victorious in this case?" She looked disdainfully and raised her head towards him with her dark eyes burning with anger, as the first drop of rain fell on her forehead. Darcy sucked in a hasty breath, but he had gone too far now to care about such a petty thing as a few drops of rain.

"And yet I am fighting to prove myself exactly the opposite of **that," **the mockery still lingered in his voice as a few rain drops fell on his head and face.

"If I am proven wrong Mr. Darcy," she said lifting her shoulders, "I shall concede and accept that I am wrong." She said blinking in the light rain, her hair becoming wet.

"And?" Darcy was not to be stirred till he had made her say what he wanted to hear.

"And I will apologize," she said at last averting her eyes. Darcy was satisfied, _'the great Elizabeth Bennet, cowered at last.' _Now that he had heard what he wanted to, he realized that the rain was picking up momentum, he quickly shrugged out of his great coat and erected it above both their heads with one arm wrapping the other around her shoulders.

"And what about you Mr. Darcy?" She was apparently insensible to the closeness they unwittingly shared at that moment.

"What about me?" He gently pushed her forward towards the house as they both started up the steep climb, Darcy taking long strides and Elizabeth almost running to keep up.

"Would you not also apologize?" She asked from under the coat, looking up at him, her anger not as fierce as it had been a moment ago.

"I already have," he flashed a brilliant smile at her bewildered countenance and forgot what he was going to say. He had seen her at night and in day, in all her finery and in her …ahem…night clothes, but never in rain. She stumbled as she stared back at him and Darcy tightened his grip around her soft body. How easy it would be to dip down his head a little and kiss her soft, wet lips till she forgot all his arrogance and remembered only his warmth. He ripped his eyes off her face, well her lips to be exact, it would not do to give in to such a frivolous impulse at that moment, especially now when they were entering the gates of the Manor.

"When?" She asked in a quiet voice, as he averted his gaze.

"I should not have said that," he shook his head with a faraway look on his face, as the rain pelted them from the front now.

"Mr. Darcy I insist that you tell me right now," she struggled to keep up with his fast pace, the portico of the house only a few feet away now.

"I most certainly shall not," he said stubbornly, removing his wet coat off them and releasing her reluctantly from his grip as they entered the shade of the portico roof that was supported by beautiful marble pillars.

"Well aren't you the soul of obstinacy," she huffed as she brushed the rain drops off her face, pulling at Darcy's heart strings in the process.

"And isn't this the classic case of the pot calling the kettle black," he retorted. Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before erupting into reluctant laughter.

Darcy stared at her in confusion, she was trying his patience sorely by going back and forth in her manner towards him. He looked on as the laughter brought a pink hue to her wet cheeks, some rebel locks of hair falling around her face, her eyes looking especially fine as they filled up with mirth.

"I do not understand what you find so amusing," he raised an eyebrow at her.

"No," she stopped laughing but could not hide the smile that refused to leave her lips, "you would not."

"Have you added the lack of a sense of humour to my many qualities as well?" He asked lightening up, her smile always had a magical effect on him.

"No indeed," she looked impertinently up at him, "only a lack of a sense of speed, you walk wholly too fast Mr. Darcy, I have yet to catch my breath properly."

"My only object was to protect us from getting soaked," he explained a little self-consciously.

"I do not doubt your reason Mr. Darcy," her recent bout of impertinence seemed endless to Darcy, who was slowly losing all anger in the soft glow of her damp skin, "only your **ability** to walk slowly, your legs are entirely too long."

Darcy's heart missed a beat at the remembrance of the last time she had uttered the same words. It seemed like an aeon ago since that lovely carriage ride from Lambton to Pemberley. He took her expression in carefully when her eyes narrowed, as if trying to decipher some mystery. _'can she be remembering that day too?' _He wondered.

"This is the second time you have pointed that fact out," he said thoughtfully, without realizing that he was not supposed to remind her of the past.

"Is it?" She looked intrigued and embarrassed at the same time, making her cheeks flush slightly. "When did I say this before," she asked curiously.

"I apologize again Miss Bennet," Darcy broke out of the trance that the beautiful memory of that far away carriage ride had immersed him into, "this is the second time that I have unconsciously said something that I should not have."

"Mr. Darcy," she bent forward a little, "do you…"

She did not get to finish what she was about to say as the large front door was thrown open, and Miss Trent stepped out in a hurry. She stopped mid-step as her eyes fell on the two static figures, standing at the foot of the few steps to the house.

"Lizzy," she cried, "where have you been, I was getting frantic with worry."

Darcy felt relieved at this sudden interference, for he knew not whether he would have been able to answer whatever it was that Elizabeth was about to ask him.

"I…we got caught in the rain," Elizabeth told Miss Trent, stepping away from Darcy and closer to her.

"Good morning Miss Trent," Darcy bowed gravely.

"Good morning Mr. Darcy," she smiled at him.

"I shall now take my leave," he eyed Elizabeth from the corner of his eye, but directed his farewell at Miss Trent.

"But it is raining Mr. Darcy," she protested, but Darcy now wanted to get back and spend some time with Georgiana.

"My horse is still tied in the woods Miss Trent," he declined firmly, "I need to take it back to the stables."

"Of course," she smiled at him again, "I shall not detain you further than."

"Miss Trent," he bowed and then turned towards Elizabeth, his eyes lingered on her face for a moment longer than was necessary, "Miss Bennet." Elizabeth curtseyed, holding his gaze with questions flickering in her own. Darcy averted his eyes and walked away, his mind a jumble of conflicting emotions.

The rain was not heavy to begin with and it had slowed down considerably now. Darcy crossed the boundary of Sleighton Manor and broke into a run. He did not care if anyone was watching him or if he made a spectacle of himself, his only thought was of getting his chaotic thoughts into some semblance of sanity.

He hurried through the woods to where Hermes was waiting in the rain for him, slowing down to take a look at the tree that had hidden Elizabeth's identity from him as he had pulled her out of its shelter. To have met her here of all the places seemed like a coincidence of the most amazing kind. He had met her, she had talked to him, fought with him and laughed at him, all in a span of not more than an hour, he wiped his brow and kept on walking towards his horse which could now be seen standing placidly in the light rain. Darcy stroked its neck as Hermes shrugged off the excess water off itself. The poor animal had been waiting for him in the rain, _'how loyal, how reliable it is, and how selfish am I to have thought only of Elizabeth,' _he thought dully as he untied it, got on it and spurred it on towards Brookridge Hall.

Elizabeth's manner towards himself confused Darcy in the extreme. She was shocked initially, but then seemed pleasant enough towards Georgiana and had gotten angry again as Darcy insisted on escorting her. But what was he supposed to do, he could not very well have left her to go back alone when she clearly was struggling to ward off her dizziness. After coming across her while she was having vertigo more than once, he now knew what could have caused it. It was the remembrance of the letter the first time at Longbourn and of Georgiana's sitting room at Bingley's wedding, therefore this particular unsteadiness, light as it had been, must have been caused by her sudden recollection of who Georgiana was.

Poor Georgiana, his mind drifted off towards her sad face, as the house came into view, she must be distraught by this sudden meeting. Even though Georgiana and Elizabeth's friendship had not been of a long duration, they still had managed to forge a bond stronger than most people fail to create even in years. Their time together at Pemberley had gone a long way in strengthening that tie. But today's events had successfully managed to break Georgiana's heart, as the illusion she had harboured of Elizabeth never forgetting her had crashed into a million pieces, the shards of which he could see in her pained eyes.

He felt his ire remounting as he sped Hermes into the boundary of the house, _'why does Elizabeth delight in always misunderstanding me?' _He thought angrily when the stables came into view. She had deliberately misinterpreted his meaning, when his only object was to ensure her safety. Had she not observed enough of his behaviour after recovering to see that he is not so undeserving as she had thought him? What would it take for him to win her heart without the aid of that wretched letter? He felt frustrated in the extreme when he jumped off Hermes and allowed the stable boy to take the reins off his hands, making his way back to the house in his cold wet clothes.

His irritated nerves relaxed a little as Elizabeth's tinkering laughter resounded in his ears, but the next moment his annoyance returned in full force when he remembered who the source of her hilarity was. He scowled as he entered the front door and slammed it shut forcefully before the footman could step up and do his duty. Darcy hastily climbed up the stairs rubbing lightly at his temples, he desperately needed to talk to his sister not only to provide comfort but also to seek it.

…**..**

Elizabeth watched Darcy's broad back as he walked swiftly but gracefully away from her, she suspected him of knowing some important and several unimportant details about her that she herself had no memory of. But she also felt that it would not be easy for her to inveigle any such information out of him.

"You should change Lizzy," Rose said from behind her, "before you catch a cold."

"Hm," she mumbled absently and turned towards the steps to the entrance.

"Do you know Mr. Darcy?" She asked curiously as the footman opened the door for them and they stepped inside.

"Yes," Elizabeth shook her head to ward Mr. Darcy off her mind, "he is a close friend of Jane's husband, Mr. Bingley."

"Lizzy," Rose said in exasperation, guiding her towards the staircase that led to the first floor where Elizabeth's room was situated, "why did you not tell me so before?"

"Well, you never told me who the Collier's cousin was and I did not think him important enough to tell you about him," Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, feeling a sudden chill.

"I suppose I did not," Rose said thoughtfully taking a turn towards the rooms, "do you know him well?"

"Not as well as I thought I did," Elizabeth sighed, "but yes, I have known him for more than a year now. We met in last October, when he accompanied Mr. Bingley to Hertfordshire."

"And they stayed at Netherfield Park?" She asked stopping at Elizabeth's bedroom door.

"Yes," Elizabeth stopped and turned towards her friend with alacrity, "oh Rose you cannot imagine the shock I felt when I saw him."

"Was it a pleasant surprise or a horrible shock?" Rose smiled mischievously at her.

"Neither," Elizabeth smiled back, "it was definitely not pleasant, but nor was it horrible, it was just mind numbing I suppose."

"As your wet clothes are body numbing," Rose opened the door for her, "go and change, I shall send the maid up in a minute to draw you a bath."

"I shan't be long," Elizabeth smiled at Rose with discomfort, a sudden thought striking her as she entered the room and closed the door behind her, _'Rose has taken a fancy to Mr. Darcy.' _She did not know why this thought made a sudden weight settle in the pit of her stomach, but she felt very uncomfortable with this piece of information.

She quickly stripped off her wet clothes, while the maid drew her a bath and stepped into the warm water, immediately feeling relaxed. She rested her head at the edge of the bathtub while Rose's maid Betsy washed her hair. What a strange day it had been, her thoughts floated back to Mr. Darcy and the astonishment she had felt at suddenly finding herself in his arms. It was easy to read the extreme astonishment etched on his face at that time, it had almost felt as though she had seen the very same expression on his face before, a long time ago.

She also thought of Miss Darcy, how sweet she had looked as delight suffused her features when she had thought that Elizabeth had recognized her, and how disappointed she had seemed when she realized that it was not so. Elizabeth scrubbed the dirt from the rain fiercely off her body while Betsy poured warm water on her, as she recalled that she was, in some way, responsible for the unhappiness Miss Darcy had felt.

She came out of the bath and dried herself before getting into the dress that was held out to her. Making her way quickly to the fireplace, she dismissed the maid, deciding to warm up a little before going downstairs. The sad blue eyes of Miss Darcy, so like her brother's but mild where Mr. Darcy's were intense, had impacted her more than she would like to admit. The poor girl was so obviously distraught that Elizabeth had wanted to go to her and console her for whatever it was that was ailing her. And had it not been for her imposing brother and her own sudden vertigo, she might have done just that.

Elizabeth shivered involuntarily as she recalled the sudden vision that had assailed her mind as she stood in front of the Darcys. She got up, went to the bed and got under the covers, folding her knees and bringing them closer to her chest. It was a gazebo, she was sure that what she had seen in that moment, was a small gazebo with a beautiful background of trees and lush grounds. There were voices too, but she was too distracted by Mr. Darcy's penetrating gaze to concentrate on anything else.

She turned on her other side, facing the window, the rain had stopped now. She slowly moved her fingers through her wet hair and remembered the rain. Elizabeth closed her eyes, Mr. Darcy's hot words ringing in her ears. She was wrong to have reacted so harshly to him, to be fair he was only trying to show her some consideration, and she could not fault someone for being kind. _'Was he right when he said that I take pleasure in misunderstanding him?' _She opened her eyes and stared at the stillness outside, it was the second time that he had said something to that effect. She did not relish in always doubting his true meaning, but she had seen his worse side for so long that perceiving him in a new light was making strange emotions rise in her heart and that perplexed her to such an extent that she had lost her temper and said those hurtful things to him. For some yet unknown reason, she did not savour the idea of Mr. Darcy being annoyed at her. _'I shall be on my best behaviour whenever I meet him next, and will make an effort to get to know both him and his sister,' _she promised herself.

Elizabeth's lids felt heavy now, she yawned and laid on her back, adequately warmed. Twice Mr. Darcy had said something that had revealed him to be aware of the occurrences of her past. _'Could it be true,' _she wonder sleepily, _'had he really apologized for his harsh words at the Parsonage,' _before falling into slumber.

**_It was a bright day and she was standing at the foot of a gazebo in a beautiful tree laden ground. As she raised dark her eyes, they encountered intense blue ones. Elizabeth could feel heat creeping up her neck as she watched a disheveled looking Mr. Darcy staring down at her. Before any of them could say something, they heard a twig snap behind them, and turned around quickly to find Miss Darcy standing a few feet away, staring in curiosity at them._**

**_"William," she said._**

"Lizzy?" Elizabeth dimly registered a voice calling her from far away as she tried to bind her dream to where it had broken from, by the interruption of that voice.

"Lizzy wake up," someone shook her shoulder lightly, "the Colliers are here and want to meet you."

Elizabeth opened her eyes slowly and looked up blearily at Rose, who was trying to wake her up from her untimely sleep. Her heart was still beating rapidly at the dream she had just had. It was quite similar to what had actually happened in the woods this morning, yet a little different. She quickly sat up and rubbed her eyes to ward off the remaining bits of sleep.

"I cannot believe I went to sleep at such an ungodly hour," she complained.

"It does not matter," Rose jumped on her bed, "let me help you tidy up quickly and then we can go meet them."

"I should hurry up then," Elizabeth pushed the covers away and her eyes twinkled, "should I wear something fancy or should I save my prettier frocks for some other occasion?"

"Do wear something nice Lizzy," Rose said smugly, "Mr. Mark might take a fancy to you."

"If he has not already taken a fancy to **you," **she returned equally.

"La, I assure you he has no interest whatsoever in me," Rose wrinkled her nose.

"And Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth eyed her friend thoughtfully, "does he have any interest in you?"

"How would I know Lizzy," Rose blushed deeply, "maybe you can observe for yourself," she suggested a little shyly and Elizabeth again felt uneasy. How was she supposed to gauge the interest of a man, so lately in love with her, in another woman? She was sure that Mr. Darcy had already gotten over his **ardent love **for her, but she was not sure that he was the kind of man who gave his heart so readily to any eligible female that he encountered. And then there was his strange empathy with Jane, she still had not been able to decipher their conversation at the wedding breakfast, nor had she been able to push it off her mind. She looked up and saw Rose looking hopefully at her and smiled in return.

"Of course," she said wanting to change the subject, "now help me get dressed."

Within a quarter of an hour Elizabeth was dressed and being introduced to the guests from Brookridge Hall. Mr. Marcus or Mark Collier was a fine young man not more than six and twenty, Miss Irene Collier, Lt. Trent's fiancée was a tall young woman about Elizabeth's age with flaming red hair, clinging rather proprietarily to her fiancé. The other two guests were Miss Isabella Collier who had beautiful auburn hair and eyes just like her brother and Miss Darcy whom she had already met. As Rose introduced her to them, Mr. Mark for some reason, looked surprised at seeing her there, but refrained from saying anything.

"How long do you plan to stay here Miss Bennet?" Miss Irene asked her in an off hand manner that Elizabeth did not find particularly endearing but bore well, as Rose had already warned her of her jealous nature.

"I cannot say for certain," she could not however, stop herself from goading Miss Irene a little bit. Mr. Mark's eyes brightened with amusement.

"I do not think that you remember, Miss Bennet," Mr. Marcus Collier said pleasantly as the afternoon tea was served, "but we have met before at the Munroe ball." Elizabeth winced, as she felt the need to explain to him why she could not remember him. She felt Miss Darcy stiffen and look up sharply towards her.

"Why would she not remember you brother," Miss Isabella spoke up before Elizabeth could form an appropriate reply, stirring her tea, "I think I have heard you say on occasion that you are one of the most unforgettable personalities of your generation," her voice was dipped in playful mockery. Elizabeth again opened her mouth to explain her situation properly but this time Lt. Trent's remark stopped her.

"Did I not tell you Mark?" he asked in an easy manner, "Lizzy had an accident awhile ago, and cannot remember most of the spring and summer of this year." Elizabeth did not know what mortified her more, Lt. Trent's untailored narration of her circumstances or him calling her **Lizzy.**

"You mean you have lost your memories?" Miss Isabella apparently had no control over her tongue. Mr. Mark looked apologetically at Elizabeth, but there was no going back on his question now. Elizabeth took a deep breath and pushed her plate away, losing her appetite.

"Yes," she tried to smile at the curious young face of Miss Isabella Collier, "I had an accident in late August, as a result of which I have no memory of my life from April to August."

"I am sorry Miss Bennet," Mr. Mark began, "I had no…"

"But how could it be," Miss Isabella stopped her brother from finishing his apology, "what if something important had happened during that time? How would you know it then?"

"I do not think that anything of import happened in the time that I do not recall Miss. Isabella," she averted her eyes from the piercing gaze of the young girl who was behaving exactly like Lydia might have in such a situation. Miss Isabella opened her mouth again to ask something else but surprisingly Miss Irene stopped her.

"That is quite enough Bella," she admonished and looked diffidently at Elizabeth, "she is spoilt horribly by our father."

"I most certainly am not," Miss Isabella huffed, "you are spoilt by…by…your…your fiancé," she eyed a terrified looking Lt. Trent with open hostility, got up and ran off towards a swing that was hanging by a tall tree. Both Mr. Mark and Rose laughed out loud, Elizabeth smiled, Miss Darcy looked flabbergasted and the fiancés turned a little pale.

"I assure you I do not mind," Elizabeth smiled at Miss Irene, "I have a younger sister, much like yours."

"I have not met your younger sisters but I have had the honour of making the acquaintance of your older sister Miss Jane Bennet," Mr. Mark told her.

"Of course," Elizabeth replied as she remembered Jane telling her about a ball in town where she had met Mr. Darcy, "of course, now I remember. Jane did tell me about it, but she is Mrs. Bingley now." She looked at Miss Darcy who was resolutely avoiding all conversation and everyone's eyes.

"You are acquainted with our cousins the Darcys, are you not?" He asked.

"I met Mr. Darcy about a year ago, at his friend's home last October," she replied, her mind drifting towards their initial meetings and his first remark about her.

"So you were the damsel in distress that he rescued this morning?" Mr. Mark's tone became devilish.

'I assure you I did not need rescuing," Elizabeth felt her cheeks burning up at the memory of being huddled together with Mr. Darcy under his coat and in his arms, "but Mr. Darcy is not one to take no for an answer, now is he?"

"Oh he has been known to have a set down or two," Mr. Mark mocked, "but he is rather too apt to act on his chivalrous impulses."

"Why has he not come with you Mr. Mark?" Rose asked a little hesitantly, Elizabeth turned towards her and saw a soft blush spreading on her pleasant features.

"He has acquired a headache after his jaunt in the rain," Elizabeth felt some surprise at Mr. Mark's rather annoyed look, but quickly forgot about it as she realized that Mr. Darcy's headache must be more in reaction to their squabble than the rain. As she noticed Miss Irene and Lt. Trent's complete absorption in each other's company and Mr. Mark's intent gaze on Rose's disappointed features she decided to remove herself from the scene for a much needed talk with Miss Darcy, who seemed to be even more reticent than before, after Elizabeth's outburst about Mr. Darcy's highhandedness.

"Would you like to take a walk with me Miss Darcy?" She asked cheerfully as she noticed her face lifting up, "the weather is particularly nice after the rain."

"I thank you El…Miss Bennet, and I would love to take a walk with you," her reply was eager if a little shy. Elizabeth ignored Rose's surprised gaze and linked her arm with Miss Darcy's as they started walking to the opposite side of where Miss Isabella was applying herself rather too vigorously to the swing.

"Miss Darcy," she began cautiously, "I wanted to apologize to you for this morning."

"Oh no Miss Bennet," she cried, "you do not have to apologize." Her young face clouded over a little as she said in her soft voice, "it is not your fault that you had that accident."

"But I still feel dreadful every time I remember your disappointed expression," Elizabeth turned her beautiful dark eyes towards Miss Darcy's blue ones, "it was not my intent to make you feel…forgettable."

"You did not," she smiled with tears in her eyes, "William had already warned me about it, and he reasoned with me again after he came back," she looked deeply into Elizabeth's eyes, "but sometimes your heart does not take well to reason."

"Were we…," Elizabeth faltered as they took a turn, "were we very close?"

"I regret that I cannot disclose anything from our time past," she sighed, "William has told me that the doctor has forbidden everyone to enlighten you on this subject." In that moment the shy girl, that Mr. Wickham had falsely made out to be proud, seemed quite like her brother, with an adamant lift of her head. _'Oh blast William,' _Elizabeth thought with irritation. They unconsciously moved towards a bench nearby and sat down side by side on it.

"Has your brother forbidden you to tell me about your home as well?" She asked a little archly.

"Pemberley?" She asked, a little surprised and continued after Elizabeth nodded, "well, no, not exactly. What would you like to know?"

"Does it have a small gazebo?" Elizabeth's mind flowed towards her dream.

"Yes," Georgiana eyed her warily, probably unsure if she was supposed to tell her this or not, "it does."

"I would not be asking you this Miss Darcy," she immediately gauged her indecision and said hastily, "but I dreamt of such a place with you and your brother in it just this afternoon, and I wondered if perhaps it was a memory or just a dream." Miss Darcy's eyes glittered and her countenance got overspread with joy.

"It must be a memory Miss Bennet," she looked quite animated as she sat up, "for our first meeting at Pemberley was a lot like what happened in the woods earlier today."

"Was it?" Elizabeth felt immense relief at this unwitting revelation by the young girl and said eagerly, "oh Miss Darcy, you must be lucky for me, for my first ever memory was also triggered by a mention of something about you."

"William told me," her smile was beautiful as it was uninhibited.

"Will you tell your brother about this as well?" Elizabeth asked frowning.

"I have learned through a bitter experience never to hide anything from my brother Miss Bennet," Miss Darcy's smile dampened a little as she replied.

"Then I would not ask you to withhold it from him," Elizabeth stood up and offered her hand to Miss Darcy smiling, "Mr. Darcy knows more about my vertigoes and my flashbacks than even my family, so it hardly makes much of a difference."

"Miss Bennet, I…," Miss Darcy began to say something but Elizabeth stopped her.

"I would like you to call me Elizabeth," she said earnestly as they started walking back towards the rest of the party, "as I suppose you used to when we got acquainted in Derbyshire."

"Oh Elizabeth," she squeezed her hand eagerly in hers, "I cannot tell you how happy this makes me, and of course you should also call me Georgiana."

"I was going to," Elizabeth said playfully, "I find it rather difficult to stand on ceremony for long."

"I know," Georgiana giggled happily and squeezed her hand again. As they got nearer to the group assembled around the table, their voices became louder and more comprehensible.

"…apologize for my cruelty," Mr. Mark said to Rose with a hand on his chest, everyone laughed. Elizabeth frowned at this, his words sounded familiar to her ears.

"Indeed I am terribly upset with you," Rose returned playfully as Elizabeth and Georgiana came nearer.

"Enough of your frivolity," Lt. Trent jumped up laughing and pulled Miss Irene to her feet as well, "you need to hurry now before it starts to rain again." He eyed the gathering clouds overhead.

Elizabeth's head reeled at the familiarity of the words she had just heard, but the dizziness was not as severe as it used to be earlier. Miss Isabella ran towards them and together they all departed with Lt. Trent tagging along to see them off till the gate.

"What were you and Miss Darcy talking about for so long?" Rose asked curiously as they left.

"She was just helping me remember a little of my lost memories," Elizabeth sat heavily on a chair.

"How would she know about any such thing?" Rose asked in confusion.

"It turns out that I spent sometime in Derbyshire with her," Elizabeth said closing her eyes and allowing the soft breeze to calm her tumultuous thoughts down.

"Oh," Rose said, "Let us go inside now Lizzy, it looks like it is going to rain again and it would not do for you to get soaked for a second time in one day." Elizabeth nodded and went inside with her.

As she sat in the Trent's parlour window, sipping slowly at her tea since she had not taken any with the guests, and staring at the pelting rain outside, words floated into her eyes from afar.

…_**apologized to you**_

…_**for my cruel words…**_

…_**that is upsetting to us both**_

…_**you cannot possibly forgive me…**_

Elizabeth quickly got up, her head swam but only for a moment. She excused herself for a little while and carefully climbed the stairs to the first floor. Once inside her room, she swiftly closed the door and walked towards the window. It was getting dark outside now. Elizabeth closed her eyes and rested her forehead on the cool glass of the window, closed her eyes and lost herself in the vision that was striving to claim her mind.

She found herself standing in the gazebo from her dream, there was someone with her but she could not seem to place who it was. He was asking her to forgive him for something he had said, and she was denying the necessity of it. Elizabeth tried to see the face of the man with her but she could not, she tried to distinguish the voice but failed there too. In exasperation she opened her eyes and felt a flash of stormy blue eyes in front of her for a moment before it was gone.

She walked towards the chair by the fire and sat on it, the identity of the man apologizing to her haunting him. Suddenly her heart pounded with realization, _'it was Mr. Darcy, apologizing to her for his behaviour at the Parsonage.' _She got up and started circling the room in agitation. So he was telling the truth when he said that he had already apologized as they made their way back to Sleighton Hall in the rain. Georgiana did say that they had a gazebo and that the mode of their meeting at Pemberley was quite similar to how they met today. Maybe today's meeting triggered her dream and Mr. Darcy's words coupled with Georgiana's assurance that they had a gazebo at Pemberley prompted her mind to remember his apology.

Her mind was moving in circles, just like her body that was rotating around the room like the hands of a clock. _'No,' _she thought, _'this is all a work of my over active imagination.' _She rejected the idea of Mr. Darcy apologizing to her at Pemberley, but where else could he have done it? He could have done it at Kent, but he was supposed to leave the day next to the one he proposed on.

At last, she decided to stop thinking about it all, lest it should give her a headache again. She was glad that now whenever she had a vertigo, it was not too disturbing, that meant that she was getting better. She relaxed a little at this thought and descended the stairs for dinner.

**Next Chapter : Holding Hands under the Table and Cheating at a Game of Cards**

**A/N: So this is my longest chapter yet, hope you like it. Thank you so much for your encouraging reviews, keep doing that often **

**There is one issue that I wanted to address. Some viewers do not like the introduction of so many new characters to the plot and I totally get that as previously I also lost interest the moment anyone new was forced into a P&PFF, but this is kind of essential to the continuation of the story. Rest assured that the new comers will not interrupt Elizabeth while she is falling in love with Darcy again, accept in a positive way.**


	29. Chapter 29

**Memory reference: ****Chapter 19; the scene where Elizabeth enters the Pemberley library to rendezvous with Darcy, Elizabeth's POV.**

**Chapter 29: Holding Hands under the Table and Cheating at a Game of Cards**

Darcy was resolutely avoiding Elizabeth after their rather too vocal encounter in the woods. He had decided to keep away from her since she evidently still hated him, and his constant presence obviously annoyed her and brought her hidden anger at him to the fore. That day after arriving back home, he had confided his dealings with Elizabeth to Georgiana, and she had sided with her. Not only that, but Georgiana had gone that very day to meet Elizabeth with their cousins and had come back in an extremely pleasant mood, informing him that her friendship with Elizabeth was back on the right path. For some reason that had made Darcy even more cross with everyone and everything.

A lot of times in the past week, the younger Colliers had gone out to Sleighton Manor along with Georgiana, but Darcy had declined every time, taking refuge instead in Ilythia's reassuring company or Izzie's fixation with chess. Once she even came to have tea with the ladies of the house with Mrs. and Miss Trent, but Darcy planned the very day to ride to the beach with Mark and Ilythia in order to avoid her.

Taking the five mile long ride to the beach had become a habit with him. More often than not, he was found strolling along the crashing waves or swimming them. He found it relaxing, in the water he could forget about Elizabeth's wounding words and censorious looks. But tonight, all the careful maneuverings to evade her were to end. The Trents, along with their guest were invited for dinner at Brookridge Hall, and there was nowhere he could go to escape today. He did think of making some excuse on the pretext of having a headache, but then rejected that thought as being too churlish.

Now here he was, sitting in the Collier's spacious drawing room, since he refused to go wait outside for the arrival of the guests with Mark and Irene. Though Darcy had not had many occasions to observe his cousin with Elizabeth's friend, he did however suspect Mark of having a tendresse for Miss Trent in his heart. Once again, it seemed as though history was to repeat itself, for he did not think that she returned his feelings. But considering how wrong he was in the case of Bingley and his wife, he had decided to keep his opinion carefully concealed.

He came out of his reverie as the noises from outside grew in proportion and the Admiral entered with Mrs. Trent and a content looking Mark with Miss Trent on his arm, followed by a sulking Irene and a…_'God,' _Darcy groaned inwardly, _'how much uncomplicated it would be to ignore Elizabeth if she was an ugly wench, but no, she was as beautiful as her tongue was lethal.'_

Elizabeth Bennet was magnificent in a dazzling gown in the shades of lilac. Darcy felt that Elizabeth looking so beautiful today was a punishment to him for disregarding her for the past whole week, since it was impossible for him to keep his eyes off her tonight, _'for even a moment,' _he thought. The men bowed and the ladies curtseyed and everyone took their seats. Darcy did not even notice that Lt. Trent was not present until his Aunt asked after him.

"Is Lt. Trent not coming tonight?" She asked Mrs. Trent.

"Oh he would be a little late," she replied, "a mid-shipman delivered a message for him that required an urgent reply."

"Is that why you are sulking Irene?" Darcy winced, Bella just could not hold her tongue.

"I am not sulking," Irene retorted.

"Just pouting then?" How could Mark not take advantage of such an oppourtunity of vexing poor Irene. He saw Ilythia and Elizabeth, sitting on the same settee trying to hide their smiles as they talked to each other. He tried not to look towards Elizabeth too often but it was becoming increasingly difficult to do so. As she turned her long beautiful neck towards Ilythia to say something to her, Darcy's eyes traveled down the length of it and kept traveling till they reached her neckline. _'Blast,' _he caught himself in time, before anyone noticed the ungentlemanly roving of his eyes, but the brief glimpse of her…ahem…neckline, was enough to make his head reel with images of what he could be doing with the said neckline.

"Are you all right William?" He came back from the far off land of pleasant imaginations to find everyone on his side of the room staring at him.

"Perfectly so," he croaked, "why do you ask?"

"You just look a little flushed," Izzie shrugged and turned back to Mrs. Trent. Darcy's colour heightened further as he caught Elizabeth's laughing eyes for the first time that night. She did not look away, or look disgusted for that matter, she just looked straight at him and gave him the tiniest of smiles. Darcy blinked, the woman was surely trying to drive him to Bedlam, why could she not keep to one mood. One day she was at his throat, twisting his words, another day she was holding his gaze and giving him smiles. He got up with a scowl and went off to the other side of the room, to sit with the older gentlemen, his back to the rest of the party.

Time wore on as Zack and Admiral Trent indulged in the never ending tales of sea monsters, which he heard not a word of since his ears were solely attuned to the sound of a tinkering laugh that resonated a few times and brought a shine to his eyes.

"I do believe that it would be some time before James would be able to come, Mrs. Collier," the Admiral said in his authoritative voice, "you do not have to stand on ceremony with us. Let us proceed to dinner and he would join us whenever he can." Everyone, except Irene agreed heartily, and they all got up to move to the dining parlour. The men took two women each on their arms, since the women were fewer in number.

To his chagrin and joy, Darcy was seated right next to Elizabeth at the corner of the table. Darcy inhaled her lavender scent, which it seemed that she had applied quite liberally that evening. As he held her chair for her, his hand accidentally touched her bare arm, but the way he allowed his fingers to linger there was no accident. As he sat down to eat, he observed from the corner of his eyes that she was blushing, he suddenly felt sad. He had no right anymore to make her blush like he blatantly had in that carriage ride, it was only inadvertent touches like the one they had unwittingly shared just now, that were allowed.

Conversation flowed, of which Darcy took no part even though Miss Trent was kind enough to try and include him a couple of times into it. Elizabeth was also quieter than she was before dinner, he supposed that it was his company that dampened her spirits. Course after delicious course was served until he felt that he would burst, he could see that Elizabeth also took very little of the final course before desert.

"I still cannot believe that you are taking the loss of your memory so easy," Bella attacked Elizabeth and Darcy felt her stiffen besides him, her knuckles went white as she held the desert spoon tightly, "I am sure that something of significance must have happened in those four months."

"I assure you that I am not taking it easy," Elizabeth said mildly but Darcy could detect a hint of unease in her voice, "and I also assure you that nothing of much import is likely to have happened in those months." Darcy flinched a little, she had no idea but something of the utmost importance **had** indeed happened during the time that had vanished from her recollection.

"How can you be sure," Bella argued again, and then dropped her voice to a whisper so that the older couples on the other side of the table could not hear her, "what if you had fallen in love and would never remember it now?"

A deathly silence fell on the table as Darcy's glass crashed to the marbled floor and split into a million pieces. Elizabeth quickly turned towards him and a footman hurried to clear the mess of wine and glass away. He felt choked at how close young Isabella Collier had come to the truth. As he raised his eyes from his hands to Elizabeth's face, his ire at their quarrel began to fade. She looked distressed and despondent, as though she needed someone to hold her hand and tell her that the loss of her memories was not so terrible. He wanted to be that person, so desperately, but propriety and her fiery temper forbade it. He placed his hands besides his legs on the sides of his chair to stop them from doing as they pleased. He was brought out of the contemplation of holding her hands as Ilythia admonished Bella for being so forward.

"But what if it is true?" Bella was made of a stronger mettle than to be cowered by a few harsh words, "what about the man who loved you? He must be utterly distraught."

He felt her wince next to him as she pushed her bowl away and her hands disappeared under the table. Darcy felt annoyed at Bella's persistence, could she not see that she was distressing her guest. He virtually jumped as he felt Elizabeth's cold hand touch his laying between their legs, he knew that he should shift his own away, but could not bring himself to.

"There is no such man," Elizabeth replied sounding unsure, without moving her hand, if anything she pressed it slightly to his, "I am sure."

Darcy's heart went out to her for she did not sound so sure. He tried hard not to but he could not see her resolve to remain strong thus weakened by questions about a past she did not remember, so slowly but surely he threw propriety out the window and captured her small, cold hand into the warm embrace of his own. Her hand became rigid in his grasp for a moment before it softened and allowed his to engulf it wholly. He looked sideways at her flushed face and chastised himself for being angry at her before.

"And even if there is such a man," Darcy quickly took charge and said in as calm a voice as he could muster with Elizabeth's hand melting into his, "he must know where to find Miss Bennet." He could feel her relaxing as she eased into the back of the chair and gave her hand one final squeeze before relinquishing it completely. The whole incident hardly lasted a few moments, and Darcy hoped that she would think of it as a mistaken touch rather than a deliberate contact.

"What if he is scared that she would not believe him?" Miss Trent looked directly at him, joining the game as a smile began to spread on Elizabeth's lips. Darcy felt relieved, surely smiling was a good sign.

"Then he should probably try to win my trust first," Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, her smile still in place, unlike the warmth of Darcy's hand.

"And considering that he does win it, in time," Mark asked in a curious but pleasant manner, "what would you do if you still do not feel for him what you did before losing your memories?"

"I have lost my memories," she returned evenly, her wit coming back in full force, "not my tastes and judgment Mr. Mark. If a man was able to secure my affections once, I am sure he can do it again, assuming that he has not changed too drastically in the past few months of separation," her eyes twinkled with mischief now, "and also assuming that he has **not lost his memories** as well."

Laughter erupted at her quip among the young people. Darcy smiled as Elizabeth turned towards him with glowing eyes. He quietly raised his replaced wine glass to her, appreciation plainly written in his eyes and was rewarded with a blushing smile, and then the tantalizing view of her sculpted neck as she turned towards Miss Trent.

When the gentlemen returned after taking their fill of port following dinner, Darcy stationed himself by the window that overlooked the beautiful grove at one side of Brookridge's grounds, and took in the fading light outside.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said in a soft voice from behind him. Darcy closed his eyes for a moment, she had come to him and called him in her soft voice, maybe she had decided to give up fighting at every turn. He turned slightly, to find her standing almost at level with him, looking up at him with her large dark eyes.

"Are you still annoyed about our…err…argument in the woods a week ago?" She sounded a little hesitant.

"No, Miss Bennet," he negated, which was not exactly a lie since he was not angry anymore. Georgiana coughed lightly from her perch nearby and Elizabeth tried to hide her smile by pursing her lips together.

"Then why were you behaving like a petulant child earlier," Georgiana asked him slyly, moving closer to where they were standing, "when they arrived?"

"Because I was reprimanded severely for that same **argument,"** he said dryly.

"I did not reprimand you Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth looked indignant.

"No," he shook his head and turned towards his smirking sister, "you did not." Both Elizabeth and Georgiana grinned at each other and Darcy rolled his eyes when Bella called Georgiana away to the pianoforte.

"I realize that I should not have called you…um…what I did," Elizabeth averted her eyes from him and watched Georgiana move towards the pianoforte.

"Are you apologizing even before you are proven wrong Miss Bennet?" Darcy felt incredulous at such a stroke of meekness from Elizabeth Bennet.

"Well aren't you the soul of presumption," she said impishly, "I only repent being dreadfully vocal about it, Mr. Darcy, I hope you have not forgotten that you still have to prove me wrong."

"I most certainly have not," he bent a little towards her, "in fact I am look…" He did not get to finish his sentence as Mark called on to them both.

"Miss Bennet, Darcy, are you coming or not?" He called out from his card table where he sat opposite a disappointed looking Miss Trent, "we are in need of partners for a game of cards."

It was then that Darcy observed that the card tables had been brought out and everyone was already seated and partnered.

"Of course," Darcy replied and then turned towards Elizabeth with a glint in his eyes, "Miss Bennet has very graciously accepted to partner me." He saw her eyes widen with surprise for a moment and then narrow in challenge as she placed her hand on his arm, holding her head high.

…**..**

The day of the Dinner at Brookridge Hall arrived and Elizabeth felt that subconsciously, she had awaited it rather eagerly. The Sleighton Manor maid Betsy had come to her after dressing Rose and now laced her stays tightly. Elizabeth stood in front of the mirror, allowing Betsy to do as she pleased with her, contemplating her stay at the Trent's home. Time was passing slowly but pleasantly for Elizabeth at Highcombe, Torquay. Mr. Mark and Miss Irene came to Sleighton Manor often, on the pretext of dropping off Lt. Trent who was here only till the Christmas for his ship set sail immediately after that. Elizabeth believed that Miss Irene's actual excuse was that she wanted to spend as much time as possible with her fiancé before he departed and Mr. Mark's true reason for visiting ever so often was that he wanted to spend time with Rose.

Elizabeth held up her arms as the maid slid her beautiful new lilac dress through them and smoothed it on her delicate frame. It had only taken Elizabeth a couple of meetings with the young gentleman to ascertain that he had tender feelings for her friend, that had not ripened into something concrete only because of a lack of response on Rose's part. She could also see that Rose's budding interest in Mr. Darcy also made Mr. Mark uncomfortable, for everyday that the Colliers came to Sleighton Manor with Lt. Trent, Rose would ask most eagerly after their absent cousin. The disappointment on her face was obvious for everyone to see but since most of the company was usually too engrossed in other matters, only Mr. Mark and herself noticed it.

Betsy buttoned her up as Elizabeth started combing her long, luscious locks carefully, so as not to hurt her almost healed head wound as she contemplated the matter. To her unease, she also found Rose's constant curiosity on the topic of Mr. Darcy trying at times. She had only ever observed them together once, and that too on a day when her nerves were all aflutter, so she could not say anything for certain about Mr. Darcy's interest in her, but her heart told her that he could not be forming an attachment to her friend.

Elizabeth handed the comb to Betsy and instructed her to make a loose, low bun, just above her nape. She had gotten quite tired of the usual loose braid that she had began to style her hair into after the accident. Her mind drifted from Mr. Darcy to his sister, she had met Georgiana a few times as well and tried to draw her out. The shy young girl was amiable most of the time even though she was not a great talker, but sometimes she just returned to her shell and avoided even looking at her. Elizabeth knew that it was just general unease in company and not any peculiarity in her character. She sometimes wondered at Mr. Wickham's false portrayal of Georgiana's personality when he had known her almost all her life.

Elizabeth dismissed Betsy and preened herself in the mirror as she finished with her hair. She found her look satisfactory and got up to look for her silk slippers that matched her gown. Mr. Darcy's constant absence from any kind of visit or activity shared by the Trents and the Colliers was another cause of agitation for Elizabeth. At first she had attributed his absence from the party that came to visit to his disinclination to mingle with new people, but as he even went out on the day that she visited Brookridge Hall, she became certain that the heated words that they had exchanged earlier were the cause of his avoidance.

Elizabeth frowned as she slid her feet into the slippers and thought about the quarrel she had had with Mr. Darcy. She had felt the injustice of her behaviour deeply. Her blatant assault on his disposition was unmerited as it was unnecessary. It was true that his haughty conduct in Hertfordshire and his callous words at Hunsford were not in his favour. But if she dated the assessment of his character from the day, after her injury, that she met him at Longbourn, then she could not deny that there was a marked difference in the Mr. Darcy of then and now. Or maybe it was like Jane had said, that he was merely a man that she had misread.

Elizabeth picked up her wrap and wound it around her arms as she took one last look into the mirror. Her eyes were shining with anticipation and her cheeks aglow with excitement, but if anyone were to ask her the cause for her animation, she would not have been able to answer. She smoothed her hands on her tiny waist and thought about when Mr. Darcy had held her by it as he had pulled her from behind the tree. She blushed and shook her head, not understanding why he affected her in this way. She could not fathom why the thought of him being angry at her bothered her so much when just a few weeks ago she thought of him as the most disagreeable man of her acquaintance. Sometimes she felt as though her own heart had stood firmly against her when it came to think poorly of Mr. Darcy, so that she could not detest him even if she wanted to.

She quickly turned away from the mirror and exited the room, descending the stairs swiftly to reach the foyer where everyone must be assembled by now. She once again determined to get to know the man behind Mr. Darcy's scowl.

Miss Irene and Mr. Mark awaited them on the steps to Brookridge Hall, Mr. Mark received them with alacrity but Miss Irene looked quite disappointed when she was told that Lt. Trent was held up by some urgent message. As Admiral and Mrs. Trent preceded them on the stairs, Mr. Mark was quick to secure Rose's arm, to Elizabeth's amusement. She herself was left to walk in with a dejected looking Miss Irene.

Everyone was shown to their seats after the welcome greetings. Elizabeth wanted to sit with Georgiana, so she could ask her more about Pemberley, but that was not to be since Miss Collier guided her to sit next to her. She found her to be amiable if a little reticent, but she was undoubtedly an exceptionally beautiful woman. Elizabeth looked around her and observed the Colliers._' A handsome family,'_ she thought, _'even if there are rather too many redheads._' Her eyes moved to the silent man sitting besides his Aunt, but Mr. Darcy was determinedly avoiding her gaze.

"I do believe that I made the acquaintance of your sister, Miss Jane Bennet at a ball this spring in town," Miss Collier said pleasantly to Elizabeth.

"Did you?" She felt discomfited as she figured that she would have to explain to her why she could not remember her.

"Indeed," Miss Collier replied placidly, "It was at Lord Munroe's house."

"Oh," Elizabeth frowned a little as she remembered Jane telling her about a ball where she had met Mr. Darcy, "of course, now I remember. Jane did tell me about it," Elizabeth faltered a little but decided to go ahead with her piece of information, "you might not be aware of this, but I had an accident a month ago and…" Miss Collier did not let her finish the sentence as she quickly raised her hand to stop her in mid-sentence.

"I do know about it," she smiled reassuringly at Elizabeth, "Lt. Trent told me and Irene of your accident and its subsequent ramifications. I assure you I did not bring this up to make you uncomfortable in any way."

"I am glad that you already know," Elizabeth sighed in relief, "I do feel a little awkward, explaining why I do not remember anything from April to August, to anyone I meet."

There was a lull in conversation when Mrs. Collier asked Mr. Darcy if he was all right and Elizabeth looked up to find him looking uncomfortable. Her eyes shown with mirth as he turned his piercing blue gaze towards her, for the first time that evening. His look was cold and a little exasperated as he quickly looked away, excused himself and moved to where the Admiral and Mr. Collier were sitting, his broad back resolutely turned towards the rest of them. Elizabeth felt suddenly angry, there was no occasion to be so impolite. He could have just turned his head away if the sight of her irritated him so much, there was no need to shift to the other end of the room.

Dinner itself turned out to be quite an exciting affair, with Miss Isabella attacking her with another set of questions about her memory loss and Mr. Darcy finally getting over their squabble and shockingly, holding her hand under the table. _'Well,' _she thought, _'it was not so much holding as grabbing it by mistake, and he did leave it as soon as he realized that it was a hand and not the arm of the chair,' _she told herself.

Elizabeth thought it best to clear the air between herself and Mr. Darcy about their little encounter in the woods, after the gentlemen returned to the drawing parlour. He accepted her almost apology with grace and punished her by announcing to the whole room that she had agreed to be his partner for the game of cards that was to commence, leaving her no choice but to accept. Both of them took their places at a table where Rose and Mr. Mark were already seated.

"If there is one thing that Darcy is not an expert at," Mr. Mark said shuffling and reshuffling the cards skillfully, "its cards."

"Indeed," Elizabeth looked up to find Mr. Darcy glaring at his cousin, "then he should not have partnered with me, for I am awful at cards as well."

"That is till you begin to cheat your way through," Rose said laughingly, "and then there's no stopping her Mr. Mark."

"Really?" Mr. Mark's eyes twinkled as Mr. Darcy's narrowed, "then I shall partner you for the next game Miss Bennet, for I have no patience for rules."

"Rose is just out to defame me," Elizabeth dimpled at Rose, "I assure you I am the essence of honour when it comes to a game of cards, besides," she turned her dark eyes to her partner, "I doubt if Mr. Darcy would ever accede to any such scheme, even if I did give it a try." She gave him a challenging look, which he returned with his intense stare.

"Depends on which quality you would be willing to strike off from my name if I agree to comply with your demands," he drawled mildly and she knew that he was referring to their heated conversation on the day of the rain. Elizabeth's cheeks flushed lightly as she turned towards Rose's curious gaze.

"Let us begin, shall we?" Mr. Mark started distributing the cards, apparently oblivious to the undercurrents flowing between his two opponents. "Miss Trent shall go first," he said firmly and Rose picked up one card and discarded another.

Elizabeth observed the three people around her carefully, Rose's tell tale frown showed that her cards were not as good as she might have expected, as Mr. Mark's smug look revealed that he was indeed quite pleased with his. But the biggest problem was Mr. Darcy, who had put his statue face on, thereby effectively making it impossible for her to know how to proceed. The game commenced and everyone kept picking and discarding cards.

Elizabeth was trying desperately to catch Mr. Darcy's eyes, but he was resolutely looking at his cards. _'What an infuriating man he is,' _she thought with mounting irritation. And then she was suddenly struck with a genius idea. She slowly touched her forehead with her fingers and closed her eyes for a moment, opening them to Mr. Darcy's worried gaze. _'Oh that was too easy,' _she thought in triumph.

"Spade," she mouthed wordlessly, as Rose discarded yet another card and Mr. Mark frowned at it. Mr. Darcy's eyes narrowed in disapproval, but Elizabeth was having none of it. She quickly wiped her brow with one finger, added another finger to the first and circled her eye with them as if she was in deep thought before all four of her fingers touched her lips lightly. If Mr. Darcy had even an iota of intelligence, he would know that she was trying to tell him that she had the ace, the two and the four of Spade and needed a three.

She looked up from her cards and saw him staring at her lips, Elizabeth felt a tingle as his eyes darkened and then she realized that her fingers were still at her lips, so she hastily removed them. Mr. Darcy discarded a card and Mr. Mark picked the same up, scowled and discarded it again. Elizabeth looked towards Mr. Darcy and he gave her an imperceptible nod. She quickly picked the card up and smiled broadly, _'well, he certainly is intelligent ,' _she thought as she gave him a winning smile that he returned with a roll of his eyes.

"So Miss Trent tells me that you have only gone to the beach once since you came here?" Mr. Mark asked Elizabeth just as she was thinking of which card to discard.

"Oh yes," she replied dully, "and it was such a short excursion that I did not even get to wet my feet."

"Darcy here rides to the beach every day," Mr. Mark commented.

"Oh," Elizabeth looked enviously towards Mr. Darcy, "unfortunately I am no horse woman."

"Lizzy loves to walk," Rose looked fondly at her friend, "she has always been a most diligent walker."

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled back at her, "and Rose has often been a victim of that diligence in the past. But now I have observed that she has developed a liking for riding." Elizabeth frowned as she realized that this might be in order to be more agreeable to Mr. Darcy.

"I find walking just as stimulating as riding," Mr. Darcy shrugged his shoulders, "but if you want to go a distance of five miles, riding is obviously a better mode of traveling."

"So what part of the beach do you go most often to," Rose turned her beautiful hazel eyes towards Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth began to feel sorry for her. Mr. Darcy was a lost cause, Rose had to be made aware of this, _'but how?' _She thought uneasily.

"Hope's Nose," Mr. Darcy said a little awkwardly and Rose blushed a little. Elizabeth looked enquiringly at Rose.

"It's a spot for swimming," Mr. Mark was unperturbed by this discussion, "for gentleman."

"There is also one other spot that I frequent," Elizabeth looked towards him and found his eyes communicating something, "Its called The Black Heart." Elizabeth quickly hid her face behind her cards, for she could not stop her smile from erupting in full force. That Mr. Darcy was trying his hand at cheating in cards was extremely diverting.

"Why is it called The Black Heart," Elizabeth asked at last when she was sufficiently composed and looked towards Mr. Darcy who looked just as staid as ever, but his eyes had a new shine to them.

"The cliff is naturally cut in a way that it resembles a heart, and the stones around it are mostly black, thus the name The Black Heart," Mr. Mark replied, looking at his cards.

"How many times have you ventured there Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth now looked directly into his eyes, willing him to give her the hint she required to win the game.

"Ten maybe eleven times," he replied nonchalantly, his eyes the only thing giving away his enjoyment in the whole charade, "or thirteen if you count the times that I just passed by without going down to the beach."

Elizabeth understood him perfectly. He had the ten, the Jack and the King of Hearts and wanted the Queen.

"I hope we shall go there soon enough for a longer visit," she turned towards Rose as she discarded her Queen of Hearts and watched Rose pick it up, "you drew me in here with promises of frequent visits to the seaside, now let us see when you make good on those."

"I know Lizzy," Rose said distractedly as she grimaced at the card Elizabeth had discarded and did likewise, "we shall plan a longer excursion to the beach soon enough."

"I call," Mr. Darcy placed his one extra card facing downwards as he displayed his remaining sets. Elizabeth grinned and displayed hers. It was a clear win with Elizabeth having the Ace of Spade and Mr. Darcy the Queen of Hearts.

"Elizabeth Bennet," Rose looked sternly at her, "you cheated."

"You cannot prove it," Elizabeth raised her eyebrow.

"So you agree that you cheated?" Mr. Mark looked calculatingly at her.

"I said no such thing," she huffed, "besides, Mr. Darcy could also have cheated, why is not anyone pointing a finger at him?"

"Oh Darcy is a stickler for propriety," Mr. Mark said dismissively, "he would never cheat, especially with ladies in company."

"You give me too much credit Mark," Mr. Darcy had the grace to blush. Elizabeth giggled at his heightened colour but stuck to her statement that she had not cheated until it was time to go home.

She could not remember when she had spent such an exciting night in a long time, and she was actually sorry when the party finally broke up close to midnight. Adieus were made as were plans for a sea side excursion to the Collier's cottage by the sea. Elizabeth felt thrilled at the prospect of spending a night by the sea, with the sound of waves crashing at the cliffs to be her lullaby.

"I cannot believe you convinced me to cheat," Mr. Darcy murmured near her ear as he handed her wrap to her.

"I do not think that I said even a word," she said indignantly.

"I do believe you said **Spade," **he said dryly and Elizabeth hid her laugh behind a cough.

"And I do believe that led you to a victory," she said archly as they started to follow Mr. Mark and Rose out.

"I thought it was the Queen of Hearts that led me to a victory," he said meaningfully.

"I am glad Mr. Darcy," she looked impishly at him and said complacently, "that we are in accord about this." She could then see his lips twitch at the corners. Though he did not exactly smile but Elizabeth was satisfied. She walked away from him and stood by Rose who quickly held her hand.

"Lt. Trent," Just as they were about to move towards the front door, the butler opened it and announced.

"James," Miss Irene cared not if she offended her parents with this open show of affection and almost ran towards her fiancé. Elizabeth looked with interest at the young couple as every one halted their movement to wait for them.

"I thought you would never come," Miss Irene said in a breathless voice.

"How could I not," Lt. Trent replied in loving tones.

Elizabeth clutched Rose's hand firmly as she felt strong arms encircle her waist from behind.

_**'I thought you would never come,' a deep voice resonated near her ear…**_

_**'How could I not,' another voice, her own this time, said and she placed her hands on the ones gripping her waist firmly… **_

For a brief moment, Elizabeth lost touch with reality and turned around to see whose arms were surrounding her, but instead of a stranger, her eyes fell on the tall person of Mr. Darcy. She sucked in a breath and turned around, the magic of the vision broken. Rose looked at her in concern as they exited the house, but Elizabeth reassured her with a tiny smile.

Elizabeth, her mind reeling, quickly got on the carriage without seeing whose hand supported her. She did not even wave to the family standing by to see them off. Her mind was now completely wrapped around the flashback she had just had. Before long the Admiral was handing everyone down as Lt. Trent had decided to linger a little longer, since he got no time to do that earlier.

"I shall come to your room after changing into my night clothes Lizzy," Rose whispered in her ear. Elizabeth smiled feebly at her and slowly mounted the stairs. As soon as she was inside the room, she closed the door and rested her back at it, her eyes closed in consternation.

She tried to recall the embrace she had just felt but it was not to be. Elizabeth opened her eyes in frustration and then blushed profusely. To think that she would try to remember a man embracing her seemed wholly improper to her, not that she had not already done enough improper things in one evening. She got away from the door and walked towards the mirror on one side of the room. She watched colour creep up her neck as she thought of how Mr. Darcy had held her hand, softly, as if only to help her get through a rough time, with no other expectation. Indeed, she was sure that he had no expectations from the arm of the chair as that is what he thought her hand was.

She removed her wrap and folded it before taking it to the dressing room. _'Could he still love me?' _She questioned herself as she unbuttoned her dress and took it off her shoulders, knowing that the maid would come after helping Rose undress but feeling too agitated to sit still and wait.

She thought about Miss Isabella's question as she got into her night clothes.

_"But what if it is true? What about the man who loved you? He must be devastated."_

Elizabeth had paled, she could not help but admit that she herself had, at times, thought of an unknown man that she had occasionally dreamt of. What Miss Isabella had said was inappropriate, but it could be true. She had suddenly felt forlorn and had wanted desperately Jane's council, for her to hold her hand. She had unconsciously moved her hand from her lap to between her own and Mr. Darcy's chairs when his hand came down and quietly covered her fingers with his pressing them lightly. Elizabeth had felt a jolt of recognition, as if it had happened before, as if it was meant to happen.

She tied the strings at the neckline of her night gown and walked towards the mirror again. Even though the contact between their hands lasted for only a few moments, that little time had shown her the power that a brief touch held if exercised at the right time. Mr. Darcy could have no idea how thankful she was for it at that moment, one of the few in her life, of weakness. She had felt unsure of what her response should be, and while her independent nature forbade that she accept help from anyone, let alone Mr. Darcy, she could not help but take comfort from it in that instant. For him to hold her hand had seemed a most natural thing, and she had felt a moment's disappointment when he had released it. _'Why does his touch affect me so,' _She questioned herself_, 'when I do not even like him?' _Conflicting emotions warred within her as she untied her hair and brushed it softly.

Frustrated, Elizabeth slammed the hairbrush on the vanity table and placed her head on her hands. That was not the only time Mr. Darcy had touched her that night. Earlier, when the dinner had started, when Mr. Darcy helped her into her chair, his hand had accidentally brushed against her arm, sending a shiver down her spine. Elizabeth had blushed at her own response, marveling once again at how his touch had begun to affect her when previously even a whole half hour in his arms, at the Netherfield ball, had only been able to vex her.

Just then Rose entered the room, her curly brown hair loose on her shoulders, and shut the door behind her.

"Oh Lizzy," she quickly approached her, "I love your hair, it is so soft and silky."

"Hmm," Elizabeth replied absently and got up as both of them moved towards her bed. "Sleep here tonight Rose," she requested her friend, "there is so much that I want to discuss with you."

"Of course," she replied getting on the large and comfortable bed, "me as well."

Elizabeth also got on the bed, both of them got under the covers and turned towards each other.

"Rose," Elizabeth took a deep breath and began, "do you think I am a wanton woman?"

"What," Rose jumped and then started to laugh, "why on Earth would you ask me this question?"

"Please Rose," Elizabeth pleaded looking miserable, "I…uh…I," she stopped and then took a calming breath, "ever since the accident, I have been having these dreams and sometimes visions in which I am with a man."

"And?" Rose prompted looking concerned.

"And…and…he…quite often…he wraps his arms around me and sometimes…we…kiss," Elizabeth was now crimson.

"Does he kiss you by force?" Rose now sat up a little worriedly.

"That is what mortifies me so much Rose," Elizabeth cried, "I am a willing participant. Not only do I allow those liberties, I take great pleasure in them as well."

"Oh my Lizzy," Rose giggled, "I wish I would have such dreams for as it is I have never kissed anyone after little Tommy Lucas."

"Do be serious Rose," Elizabeth's face broke out into a smile, "and for all intents and purposes I did warn you not to."

"La Lizzy," Rose smiled at her, "for such a bold person you can be awfully decorous."

"But that is what I am trying to tell you Rose," Elizabeth sat up and glared with her dark eyes at Rose, "these dreams and visions say otherwise. What if there was a man in my past who I have been…close to?"

"Dreams are just a subconscious part of our mind Lizzy," she waved her hand to dismiss the idea, "they show us what we want rather than what we have done."

"And the visions?" Elizabeth argued, "I have them in broad daylight and I assure you that I do not want a strange man to wrap his arms around me and whisper sweet nothings into my ears," she huffed.

"Although it would be terribly pleasant if he did," Rose teased her.

"Rosalind Trent," Elizabeth folded her arms on her chest, "you are no good when it comes to putting my mind at ease."

"Look Lizzy," Rose said getting serious, "I would say that you are giving too much credence to these dreams and visions of yours. The doctor told you not to think about them and so you should not. Your memories would come back when they are supposed to and all these imaginations and suppositions about some man in your past whose kisses you cannot forget is only going to muddle your thoughts further. So stop trying to relive a past that may or may not come back to you and start living in the present where there are handsome men to be wooed like Mr. Mark and of course, Mr. Darcy," she finished with a wink and both of them broke out into a fit of giggles.

"So did you enjoy the night?" Rose asked her when they had calmed down.

"Very much," Elizabeth replied smiling.

"And," Rose prompted, "did you observe what I asked you to?"

For a moment, Elizabeth felt guilty. Instead of observing Mr. Darcy's interest in Rose, as she was instructed to do, she had been holding his hand under the table and flirting shamelessly with him over cards.

"I…err," she began to say something but faltered. Even though she had not observed much that was going on between other people at the party, she had noticed enough of Mr. Darcy's and Mr. Mark's behaviour to know that her friend was setting her cap at the wrong gentleman.

"Rose, Mr. Darcy is not the kind of person who wears his heart on his sleeve," in the end Elizabeth settled for a diplomatic reply, "it is not easy to read what is going on in his mind."

"Lizzy you have known him for much longer than me," Rose said thoughtfully, "do you think he could ever think about someone like me?"

"What do you mean by someone like you?" Elizabeth immediately flew into a temper, "what is wrong with you, he would be lucky to have **someone like you **for a wife." Her mind went back to his cutting remarks on the impropriety in the behaviour of the Bennet family and on her connections being beneath him and her heart filled with indignation. His altered behaviour since her accident, his kindness in bringing Jane and Mr. Bingley together and his consideration towards herself were all forgotten in an instant.

"But he does not seem to pay any attention to me," Rose pouted, ignorant of the turmoil in Elizabeth's feelings at that moment.

"Believe me that is no measure for that man's feelings," Elizabeth said, her anger simmering down and her thoughts going back to the extreme astonishment she had felt when he had proposed to her at Hunsford.

"What do you mean?" Rose frowned.

"Just that he is a very private person," Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, "and no one can know what is going on in his head unless he wants them to."

"I do not want know about his thoughts," Rose pouted again, "I just want to know if he ever thinks about me."

"No," Elizabeth said with her customary frankness and Rose flinched, "if you want my honest opinion, I do not think that he has ever given you more than a passing thought, and nor is he likely to." Elizabeth finished guilelessly, thinking it better to be blunt than to raise her dearest friend's hopes up only to be crushed some day soon.

"Oh Lizzy," Rose looked aghast, "you could have sugar coated this a little."

"I could have," she agreed, "if I were not your friend."

"Do you think he is interested in someone else?" She asked her hazel eyes looking a little damp.

"He could be," Elizabeth said thinking on her silly conjecture about Mr. Darcy and Jane.

"I do like him so much Lizzy," Rose said forlornly.

"But you deserve so much more than he can give you," Elizabeth told her as she took her cold hands into hers, "you deserve someone who can love you back, like Mr. Mark Collier."

"Mr. Mark?" Rose jumped and took her hands out of Elizabeth's, her hazel eyes round in amazement.

"Yes," Elizabeth said firmly turning completely towards her, "I have observed enough of his behaviour to know that he feels something for you. There is a definite preference in his behaviour towards you Rose."

"But…but…he," Rose stuttered and then went quite for a bit before continuing in a low tone, "I once heard him say that I was fat."

Elizabeth felt shocked for a moment before she started laughing loudly and uncontrollably. The similarity in the situations of herself and Rose striking her forcibly. She had heard Mr. Darcy disparaging her looks and sometime later he had fallen in love with her and Rose had heard Mr. Mark say something on the same lines about her and now he had also started to like her. _'Well,' _she thought mirthfully, _'serves these arrogant cousins right.'_

"Was it when you first came to Highcombe?" Elizabeth asked and Rose nodded a little petulantly.

"Well you have to admit that you were on the…err…plumper side at that time," Elizabeth said smiling at Rose.

"Are you siding with him in this?" She asked hotly.

"No," Elizabeth returned calmly, "I just think that a man of two and twenty or three and twenty, what ever his age was at that time, is entitled to rethink his opinion when he gets older."

"I do believe you are wrong," Rose still found it hard to fathom that Mr. Mark could be partial to her.

"You can observe his behaviour yourself from now on," Elizabeth said neutrally and then pulled the covers up as she slipped down on the bed, "it is quite late Rose, let us go to sleep now."

"All right," Rose replied and blew off the candle on her side.

Elizabeth soon drifted off to sleep, hoping against hope that no one would kiss her in her sleep tonight, but she was to be disappointed once again, for she had a particularly colourful dream that night.

_**She was walking through a maze of corridors and stairs when she stopped before a huge door and then opened it to enter a room of huge proportions. It was empty. Suddenly two arms enveloped her in a soft embrace from behind, making her heart constrict.**_

_**"I thought you would never come," a deep voice resonated near her as hot lips touched briefly behind one ear, making her gasp.**_

_**"How could I not," she said and placed her hands on the ones gripping her waist firmly. He pulled her closer and she was about to turn around in his arms, to see him, but froze as she felt his lips on one side of her neck. She barely suppressed a moan as he made his way towards the nape and then she felt his lips open and the barest graze of teeth and maybe even a bit of tongue, this time she could not suppress the involuntary sound she made.**_

_**"I have been waiting to do this ever since I saw you at…" his voice got muffled as he relinquished his hold on her and moved beside her. She looked up to see who he was and…**_

Elizabeth felt the bed rock as someone got off it, she opened her eyes to see what was happening and saw Rose walking on her toes towards the door so as not to disturb her, and then she was gone. Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. She was so close, so close to finding out the identity of the man in her dreams but it was not to be. She threw off the covers and sat up, ready to face another day, hoping that it would bring more memories with it.

**Next Chapter: A Walk on the Beach**


	30. Chapter 30

**A/N: An anonymous reader has asked me to do a little recap of the memory that ****Elizabeth**** is going to have a flashback about, in every chapter. Since I'm not good at summarizing things (as you might have guessed by the length of each chapter) therefore I'm just going to give a reference to the chapter in which the incident that Elizabeth is going to remember has originally occoured and everyone will have to go through it. I sincerely thank that reviewer for the suggestion.  
**

**Memory Reference: Chapter 14, the carriage ride scene, Darcy's POV &**

**Chapter 15, the scene where Georgiana tells ****Elizabeth**** about Darcy's life after their mother's death, ****Elizabeth****'s POV.**

**Chapter 30: At the Beach**

The carriages were ready and everyone prepared to take up the short but exciting journey to the Collier's cottage at the beach. Elizabeth looked around at everyone talking in groups, assembled outside in the vast grounds of Brookridge, as she stood with Rose, Mr. Mark and Miss Collier. Mrs. Trent was standing with Lt. Trent and Miss Irene discussing God knew what. Miss Isabella was feverishly whispering something in Georgiana's ears that was making her eyes become quite wide and Mr. and Mrs. Collier were explaining to the Admiral why Mr. Collier could not go, which was really rather silly, but there was no talking to him.

"We had better move now," she heard Mr. Darcy say to his Aunt in his firm, calm voice, that bespoke decision, "anything that can be discussed here can very well be talked out at the beach."

"Of course," Mrs. Collier nodded as her dark eyes twinkled, "you never had any patience for small talk."

"Only because it usually turns out to be **rather long,"** he mocked and Mrs. Collier laughed beckoning everyone to come to the carriages, while Elizabeth chuckled at his dry wit. She watched as Mr. Darcy nodded towards Georgiana and walked off to where his carriage was parked. There seemed to be some dispute over who was going to sit in which carriage, so Elizabeth quietly stood aside well everyone argued it out. As time dragged on, she spotted Mr. Darcy walking back to where the Trent and Collier carriages were assembled.

"What is the holdup now," he looked and sounded irritated.

"We cannot seem to decide who goes in which carriage," Mr. Mark shrugged nonchalantly.

"Why?" His voice held annoyance but then he took a deep breath and began calmly, "we are twelve people, and there are three carriages. Conveniently enough, each carriage can accommodate four persons. I do not see any difficulty here." On this, Elizabeth completely agreed with him, she also could not understand what the argument was about.

"That is the difficulty," Mr. Mark said in his customary careless manner, "we cannot seem to decide which four persons should go in which carriage."

"May I decide it then?" Asked Mr. Darcy, his question already tinged with resolve.

"By all means," Mr. Mark replied, a little miffed. Elizabeth watched the whole development with interest.

"Irene, you would want to sit with Trent, wouldn't you?" Mr. Darcy asked Miss Irene who was permanently glued to her fiancé's arm. She nodded. "Then both of you can go with the Admiral and Mrs. Trent in their carriage." Elizabeth saw Miss Irene blink and could hardly conceal her smile as her elbow made a hole in Rose's side making her cough rather noisily. Obviously Miss Irene wanted to go with Lt. Trent but her idea of a romantic carriage ride could not possibly include her parents-in-law to be. But being an unattached man, Mr. Darcy could obviously had no idea of how his maneuverings had robbed the poor girl of her fantasy of being confined in a small carriage with Lt. Trent. She could hear some giggling from behind her, obviously Miss Isabella was enjoying the look of bewilderment on her older sister's face.

"Mark, Ilythia," Darcy turned towards the twins, "you are going in the Collier's carriage with Izzie and therefore have one space left to fill." He turned towards herself and Rose after his cousins had nodded, both Elizabeth and her friend looked at him with awe, "Miss Trent, would you be kind enough to travel with them?"

"Of course," Rose looked quite pleased at being talked to, Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

"Miss Bennet," he now stepped closer and offered her his arm without batting an eyelash, "shall we?"

For a moment Elizabeth did not understand what had happened and how she ended up being one of the four passengers that were going to travel the small distance to the beach in the Darcy carriage. But as soon as she got her faculties back, Elizabeth gave him a look full of wonder and placed her small hand in the crook of his arm. Within moments they were all seated inside the carriages and on their way to the beautiful beaches of Torquay.

The fresh air caressed the faces of the occupants of the fast moving carriage. Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment to feel the air on her face and opened them to find Mr. Darcy's deep blue eyes twinkling at the corners as he turned away to look outside his own window. She felt flustered and dropped her eyes to her hands in her lap.

"William," Georgiana called her brother from opposite Elizabeth and besides him, "would you kindly exchange places with me? I have something to tell Bella." Elizabeth looked up sharply, _'oh no,' _she thought _'that will bring Mr. Darcy right opposite me.'_

"No," he replied firmly, "the journey's not long, I am sure the two of you can bear a separation of an hour."

Georgiana looked deflated and Bella scowled. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief as she closed her eyes again. _'Well,' _she thought, _'he sure knows how to take control of a situation.' _Her mind drifted to how he had taken charge when everyone else seemed unable to decide who was to go in which carriage. She felt a certain kind of respect growing inside her for him.

The almost constant interaction between the two houses had given her much food for thought. She often found herself thinking about him, more so whenever she felt alone or dejected. Ever since the dinner at the Colliers, she had seemed to draw strength from his silent presence. He had not avoided her company after that night but nor had he tried to seek it out. He would be there at almost all their gatherings, hardly saying anything and never speaking unless spoken to and yet she felt his presence more than she cared to admit. It was as though he had a strange hold over her, a certain fascination that she could not describe but also could not deny.

He never stared at her as he used to in the past, which she attributed to his not being in love with her any longer, a thought not very welcome to her. He was still the man who once thwarted the hopes of her sister but he was also the man who brought Jane her happiness back. He was still the man who severely criticized her family, yet she could not forget the picture of Mr. Darcy trying to be agreeable to her wild little sister at Jane's wedding. And he was still the man who had been grossly unjust to that pleasant man, Mr. Wickham and yet Jane had revealed the unreliability of the said gentleman. Elizabeth sighed and again opened her eyes to see grass thinning as the distance between the carriage and the shore diminished. Mr. Darcy was an enigma, and she had always liked mysteries, _'I must know the real man behind the proud façade or I shall go distracted,' _she determined.

"Miss Bennet," Miss Isabella's voice jerked her out of her thoughts, "do you mind exchanging places with me?" She asked with her bright green eyes fixed intently on Elizabeth's face.

"I…uh…I do not think it is much long now," Elizabeth protested half-heartedly.

"Please Miss Bennet," she wailed and Elizabeth frowned, _'were there tears in her eyes?' _"I beg you."

"Bella, no one shall move," Mr. Darcy's voice boomed in the confined carriage space, "we are almost there."

"But I have something awfully important to tell Georgie before we reach the cottage," she batted her eyelashes at Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth and Georgiana hid their laughs behind coughs.

"Alright Miss Isabella," Elizabeth agreed, if only to stop further argument between the two cousins, "I shall trade places with you."

"There now," Miss Isabella chirped after they had settled back in their seats once again, "was that so difficult? William loves to dictate everyone and everything."

Elizabeth smiled weakly as she tried to stop her legs from coming in contact with Mr. Darcy's much longer ones. The two younger girls quickly started whispering about something while the carriage jerked and bounced as the coast drew near. As the carriage lurched dangerously, Mr. Darcy's knees knocked Elizabeth's. She blushed crimson as she looked up to gauge his reaction but he resolutely peered outside as he tried to confine his legs to the corner. Elizabeth detected a certain sadness in his eyes and wondered what could have caused it.

She wanted to look at the scenery outside but that would mean that her eyes would inevitably be drawn towards Mr. Darcy, so she refrained from looking outside and steadfastly stared at her hands. She was thus occupied when another bump on the road brought their legs into contact again, this time fully. She felt a tingle run up her calf as Mr. Darcy jerked his leg away quickly, looking ill at ease. Elizabeth closed her eyes to avoid looking at him again and again when out of nowhere she could hear voices,

**_ …is there a problem…_**

**_Your legs sir…_**

**_…I have never had any complaints before_**

**_…they are entirely too long…_**

**_…I had not noticed…_**

**_Really Mr…_**

Her eyes flew open as the carriage lurched once again and she flew off her seat and into Mr. Darcy's arms amidst shrieks coming from the other side of the carriage. Mr. Darcy's arms had quickly come about her, holding her off the base of the carriage, with her hands desperately clutching on his upper arms for support. She did not have the courage to look at him as she tried to shake herself free of his hold, but his was not an easy grip to loosen. He gently placed her back onto the velvet upholstered seat and slowly took his warm hands off her arms. Elizabeth shivered involuntarily.

"Are you all right Elizabeth," Georgiana quickly asked and Elizabeth nodded without looking at anyone, the intensity of the experience had shaken her to the core. She could not help but think that something akin to this had happened before.

"Look," Miss Isabella pointed out at the descent from the cliffs, "we are almost there."

Elizabeth looked out from the window on her side and found the scenery rolling by as the carriage picked up speed on the rapidly descending ground. Just then Mr. Darcy tapped the top of the carriage and the driver pulled up. He got down in one smooth movement and held out his hand for the rest of them. Elizabeth placed her hand on his as her own voice echoed in her ears.

**_…it would seem that your arms are just as long as your legs…_**

**_'…I had not noticed…' _**said another voice, a man's voice.

Her grip tightened around Mr. Darcy's fingers that were holding hers lightly. He looked at her with worry etched on his face, but she quickly shook the slight dizziness away and stepped out. Mr. Darcy let go of her hand and turned towards the other two occupants of the carriage.

The other two carriages soon joined them and they all proceeded further down towards the actual beach. Elizabeth was mesmerized, she had never seen anything so compelling. As the grass got thinner and the rocks came into view, so did the sand giving way to the clear blue waves that built up with such force, yet died out too soon, leaving white foam behind. She wanted to run towards the water and drown into it. How wonderful it would be to be able to do just that, but she knew that as long as there were gentlemen around, she would not be able to go any deeper than her ankles.

As soon as they reached the water, everyone divided into groups or couples. Rose quickly grabbed Elizabeth's arm and took her a little away from the rest of them.

"Did you see Lizzy?" She asked eagerly, "did you see how Mr. Darcy thought of me first?"

"I do not follow you?" Elizabeth felt at sea, literally and figuratively.

"When he was making the decision on who was going to sit where," Rose shook her lightly.

"Rose I do not think that signifies an…," Rose quickly stopped her by raising her hand.

"Promise me that you will observe his manner towards me while we are here on the beach, Lizzy," she pleaded, "and if you do not think him interested, I shall give him up, I promise."

"Rose it is not I who should be observing his manner towards you," Elizabeth said in exasperation, "you ought to be able to determine this yourself. What if I am wrong in my estimation of his regard for you?"

"But I trust your opinion above all," Rose looked helplessly at her.

"Then you must learn to trust your own above mine, darling," Elizabeth touched her cheek lightly, "for your judgment and your judgment alone is going to matter in the end." Rose nodded and Elizabeth spotted Mr. Mark walking towards them. "And do forgive Mr. Mark his careless comment, I am sure he changed his opinion soon enough."

"Ladies," Mr. Mark bowed as he approached them, "would you care for a walk?"

"I beg to be excused Mr. Mark," Elizabeth said pleasantly moving towards the water, "I am going to get my feet wet first."

And with that she removed her slippers and placed them on a rock, gathered her dress up a little as she walked right into the cool water just as the wave receded, she felt tickled.

"My first memory of the sea is when I was not yet five years old," Miss Collier said from behind her. Elizabeth turned around as she drew level with her, "never have I felt the wild joy at the sight of the sea since my childhood."

"But then it must have lost some of its charm by having the disadvantage of being easily accessible," Elizabeth replied pleasantly, looking at the only woman who could come close to Jane in beauty.

"You could say that it does not hold the charm for us that shopping in London, or climbing hills in Derbyshire does," she smiled a sad, forlorn smile, "it is human nature to disregard what is within reach, and aspire for what cannot be."

"Do you aspire for what cannot be yours then?" Elizabeth looked intently at the tall and graceful Ilythia Collier, who was beautiful as she was wealthy and had good connections. _'Everything that she wants must be hers for the taking,'_ she thought, _'what could she be in need of that she cannot have?'_

"No," she said in a barely audible voice, "what I want is** mine, **but yet, not quite."

Elizabeth was about to say something when she heard a deep, throaty chuckle. She turned a little to the left and saw Mr. Darcy walking some distance away with Mrs. Collier, his arm around her ample form. She could not mask the look of amazement on her face for this was probably the first time that she had seen him laughing.

"You look surprised Miss Bennet," Miss Collier turned towards her with a smile on her lips now, her previous melancholy had completely evaporated.

"I am," Elizabeth blushed, "I have never seen Mr. Darcy laugh before."

"He is quite reticent," she agreed and then said playfully, "but William is known to laugh a few times a year."

"Unfortunately, I do not think it is around me," Elizabeth chuckled.

"He was never very jovial," Miss Collier said recalling Mr. Darcy's childhood, "not even as a child. But the early death of his mother, Lady Anne, well that made him even more reserved."

"Was he very young when she died?" Elizabeth asked in concern as she turned her head to the right to watch Mr. Darcy going towards the other side of the beach with his Aunt.

"Let us see," Miss Collier said thinking, "I was eleven years old at that time so William must be thirteen. Very young, too young in fact to lose a parent."

"That must have affected his whole personality," Elizabeth turned around towards Miss Collier.

"The death itself was a tragedy of huge proportions," she said, "but what really affected him was my Uncle, Mr. George Darcy's response to it. He became a recluse after Aunt Anne passed away, putting too much responsibility on his son. William has practically been a mother to Georgie."

Elizabeth inhaled deeply as she thought of Mr. Darcy's youth. He looked so calm and collected that no one could have guessed at what his childhood must have been like, indeed even imagining him to ever have been a child was difficult. But he had been a child, and an unhappy one at that. Some long forgotten words penetrated her hearing as she stared into the horizon.

**_…Papa made him take care of me… gave William a very tough time…_**

"He does seem quite protective of Georgiana," Elizabeth said thinking about the Darcy siblings and what she had just remembered. Random sentences entering her mind out of nowhere had become such a common occurrence that she could now take them in stride. _'Georgiana must have told me about Mr. Darcy's childhood,'_ she concluded, for once sure about where the memory had come from.

"Oh he is the best brother in the world," Miss Collier cried, "I quite envy Georgie. Mark is so absolutely juvenile, he spends more time devising ways to vex his sisters than doing anything productive." Her voice held a deep fondness for her twin.

"Oh all this talk of brothers has made me long for my own sister," Elizabeth said with mock sadness.

"Miss Bennet? I apologize, Mrs. Bingley?"

"Yes, she is in Italy nowadays."

"How divine," Miss Collier perked up, "I went to Italy once when I was really youn…"

"May I disturb you ladies for a moment," Mr. Darcy's rich tones emerged from behind, startling them.

"Of course William," Miss Collier looked fondly at him, "you can never disturb me," she said and then looked playfully at Elizabeth, "but Miss Bennet must speak for herself."

"Well I shall not go so far as to say **never," **Elizabeth returned equally, "but then I am not a partial cousin."

"Indeed I am sure that your becoming partial to me is just as unthinkable as your turning out to be my cousin is impossible," Mr. Darcy drawled in dry tones. Elizabeth was stunned. That Mr. Darcy could joke, and she was sure that he said this in jest, about the mode of her rejection of his addresses was something so wholly unfathomable that for once she was left speechless. She was brought back to her senses by the sound of Miss Collier's laughter.

"You do say the oddest things some times, William," Miss Collier said still laughing, "and in a manner quite dry."

"Some might call it conceit," he said and Elizabeth quickly looked up to find his blue eyes fixed on her face.

"Some might turn out to be mistaken," Elizabeth felt no shame in admitting her fault, indeed her forthright nature demanded that she did.

"Then some might be quite adept at hiding their feelings," his voice lowered, as his eyes darkened, challenging her to contradict him.

"Or others might be equally inept at reading them," Elizabeth Bennet had never backed down from a challenge in her life, and she was determined not to do so now.

"Well and some might feel left out of a conversation," Miss Collier teased both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, "while others go on and on in riddles." Elizabeth blushed crimson as she turned away from the cousins.

"Would you mind Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy said with heightened colour, after clearing his throat, "if I steal away my cousin for a while."

"Of course not," she said in as calm a voice as she could muster and then watched as they walked off, their heads bent together, conversing intently on something. They made a handsome pair no doubt.

Elizabeth quietly made her way to a nearby rock and settled upon it with her feet still dipped in the water. The water slowly caressed her feet and then receded, a motion that should have brought peace to her distraught nerves, but it did nothing of the sort. Elizabeth turned to look at the withdrawing figures of Miss Collier and Mr. Darcy. They stopped momentarily and faced each other as Miss Collier pushed some hair off Mr. Darcy's forehead. Elizabeth felt a sudden pang of jealousy, so she turned away quickly before any of them could catch her watching.

She kicked away the wave that rounded her ankle before ebbing away. She could not deny that she had started to feel a strange pull towards Mr. Darcy. Try as she might, she could not ignore his presence or disregard him on an excuse of disliking him, how could she when those feelings of aversion had long faded away.

Elizabeth loosened the ribbon of her bonnet and allowed it to fall back. The conversation she had remembered in the carriage, invaded her thoughts once again. _'Did such a conversation happen before in some carriage ride?' _She wondered, _'How many tall gentlemen have I traveled with?' _Maybe she had traveled in Mr. Darcy's carriage when she went to Lambton with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, but that did not seem wholly probable. She could not devise an occasion for such an event. She turned towards the cottage and saw that there were no gentlemen except the Admiral there. She decided to quit the habit of connecting all her memories to Mr. Darcy, but if not him, who was the man that dominated her memories?

The thoughts of Mr. Darcy brought with them the thoughts of his comfortable yet difficult youth and again Elizabeth could not shake the feeling that what Miss Collier had told her, had been narrated to her before. _'Oh Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Darcy,' _she thought exasperatedly, _'is there no escaping the man.'_

"Lizzy," Rose shouted from afar, "come hither, we are all going inside the cottage."

"I shall be there in a little while," Elizabeth shouted back and then started walking in the direction opposite to the cottage.

She desperately needed to clear her head of all these confusing thoughts, dominated by Mr. Darcy. Wherever she looked there was someone or another singing his praises. She determined once again to ask him about Jane and Mr. Wickham. She needed to know why he had been so cruel to two of his closest friends before she jumped to conclusions about him once again.

**….**

The sun was partially covered in clouds at the beach that day as Darcy walked on the sand with Isabel Collier. The grains of wet sand tickled the pads of his feet, and the moist sea air caressed his face as the wind whipped around. Everything seemed beautiful and pleasant as his eyes strayed to where Georgiana and Bella knelt on the sand making sandcastles.

"She seems quite mature for her age," Izzie said turning towards him.

"I would not call making sandcastles mature, Izzie," he mocked as Izzie chuckled.

"I am talking about Miss Bennet, William," Darcy turned sharply towards his Aunt.

"Miss Bennet?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," she nodded and then pointed to where Elizabeth was standing a little further than Bella and Georgiana, "there by those rocks with Ilythia."

"Of course," he tried to act nonchalant as he placed his arm on her shoulders.

"So you agree that she is quite mature for her age?" Izzie asked again, "after all she cannot be more than sixteen years old." Laughter erupted from deep within Darcy's throat as he threw his head back and gave in to it. _'Why does everyone keep saying this?" _He wondered amidst laughter.

"Do not let her hear you dear Izzie," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "for I do not think young ladies of twenty years covet being thought much younger than they actually are." Izzie chuckled softly.

"I did wonder why you would become attached to someone so young," she said looking at him with dark eyes, so like his father's. Darcy sucked in a hasty breath as his face became an impassive mask of indifference.

"Surely you jest," he infused his voice with as much unconcern as he could.

"Surely you have forgotten how well I know you," she looked archly at him, "I was the first one to hold you when you were born William, I know you better even than your own father knew you." Darcy looked extremely uncomfortable, but stayed resolutely quiet.

"When will you propose?" She asked with assurance, as if daring him to deny.

"I already have," he said with a slump of his shoulders, _'twice,' _he thought.

"And she rejected you?" There was no surprise in her question.

"Yes," he said simply and then thought, _'but then she accepted me, and never has there been a sweeter acceptance.'_

"Was it your fault?" She asked again.

"To some extent," he shrugged his shoulders.

"And now," she asked as Darcy's arm slipped off her shoulder.

"And now I wait," he said in a matter of fact tone.

"Is there hope?"

"At Pemberley," he began hesitantly, "when she came to visit with her relatives, we…I..it seemed as though…"

"I understand," Izzie nodded when he could not bring himself to say anymore on the topic, "she is a good girl William, and if she already has rejected you once then she cannot be mercenary. So tell me what her family is like?" Darcy, relieved at not having to relate something that was so painful for him to recall, dived into the topic of the Bennet family with alacrity.

"Mr. Bennet is a retiring man. When I first went to Hertfordshire, I only ever saw him once, and I am quite sure that it was because his wife forced him into coming to that ball," he said thoughtfully. "He has five daughters, varying in character and appearance. The eldest," he turned towards Izzie, "who got married to my friend Bingley a while ago is a gentle and considerate woman of great beauty."

"An advantageous match, would you think?" She asked with interest.

"On both sides, I should say," Darcy nodded, "she is an excellent person and exactly the kind to suit Bingley who is rather an ambivalent sort."

"Go on," she tilted her head to one side, showing interest.

"Of the younger sisters," he continued, "there is Miss Mary who is quite fond of performing at the pianoforte but seems rather a reserved kind and appears to be suffering from insecurity issues at times. The youngest two are around Georgiana's age and rather frivolous, but that is to be expected given their age."

"And the mother?"

"She is quite like a lot of the ton mamas," he grimaced, "in pursuit of eligible husbands for her daughters. An excellent hostess though, by all accounts."

"So Mr. Bennet is like Zack, Mr. Bingley like Mark, Mrs. Bingley like Ilythia, Miss Mary like Irene and the youngest daughters like Bella," she grunted teasingly, "it would seem William that you were subconsciously looking for a family just like ours." Darcy, who had started to laugh at the beginning of her sentence still could not stop.

"Stop giggling like a girl William," Izzie looked stern for a moment, "there is something that I wanted to talk to you about."

"Of course," he sobered up.

"Talk to Ilythia, will you," Izzie looked at her eldest daughter, worry etched on her face, "she seems so unhappy."

"I will," he agreed quickly as his eyes turned towards Ilythia and Elizabeth standing a little far off.

"I shall leave you to it then William," she said as she walked off in the direction of the cottage.

He took slow deliberate steps towards where the two women were standing, his eyes never leaving the slender form of Elizabeth. Darcy's eyes roved over her body as he took in her tiny waist to her perfect…ahem…he decided not to dwell too much on her anatomy, for it would only serve to make him uncomfortable for obvious reasons. A few more steps placed him right behind them and after a little conversation, he took Ilythia apart to try and raise her spirits, even though he was reasonably sure that he himself needed someone to do just **that **for him as well.

**….**

Mark and Lt. Trent got tired of Darcy's ceaseless proclivity for swimming and soon left, _'for the company of the ladies,' _Darcy thought. Mark literally had not left Miss Trent's side for even a moment ever since they had reached the cottage. Darcy convinced the two to come to Hope's Nose for a swim with great difficulty, and even then they left after only a little while in the water, claiming fatigue with averted eyes.

In a way he was glad for the privacy. He wanted to think about Elizabeth, about her smile that she had lately started to bestow on him and about her eyes that often sparkled as they alighted on him. He got out of the water and walked towards where his valet held a supply of dry clothes for him. He quickly changed and told him to walk ahead as Darcy followed at a leisurely pace.

He could hardly be called an expert on flirting, but he would be damned if Elizabeth was not flirting with him during that game of cards. He thought of how her fingers had circled her face to stop at her lips, her beautifully enticing lips. He was glad when she had removed her fingers from their all too alluring perch, for he could not have vouched for his own actions if they had lingered there any longer.

And the woman did know her way around a game of cards. He smiled at the memory of how she had devised ways to win, and at his own ability to cheat. _'Well,' _he thought, _'worse things have been done in the course of true love.' _Suddenly he had this maddening urge to see Elizabeth, to talk with her, to have her hand in the crook of his arm as they walked together on the sand.

He had no idea how soon his wish would come to fruition, for as he turned the corner of a cliff, there she was, sitting on a rock, her bonnet hanging behind her, her silken hair that had come loose from the confines of the ribbon whipping in the air. The sun was on its way towards the west and the various hues of the sunset had made the atmosphere all the more beautiful. His step quickened as he approached her, she looked up and smiled warming his heart.

"I see that you have been left alone," Darcy said as he came to a stop near her.

"As have you," she returned, still smiling.

"Being alone is a choice I opt for often," he admitted.

"Lately I have also found the charms of being by yourself sometimes," her eyes took a faraway look, "to dwell on things."

"I hope you are not over-thinking your memories," he asked frowning.

"I cannot help it," she shrugged, "I often find myself recalling the past when an occurrence or statement seems familiar."

"Have you remembered anything of substance yet?" His eyes bored into hers.

"No," she said dejectedly, "just odd snippets of conversations and sometimes situations."

"And what about dreams?" He asked again, looking curiously at her. For some reason, Elizabeth blushed and shook her head.

"May I join you on your walk, if you are going back to the cottage?" She asked hesitantly.

"Of course," He spread his hand for her to take while she stepped down from the rock she was sitting on. Elizabeth placed her soft, porcelain hand in his and he felt satisfied for the moment.

"Have you heard from Mrs. Bingley?" He asked as they started to walk towards the cottage, Elizabeth's arm now safely tucked into the crook of his, just like he had wished.

"No," she said and Darcy detected some unease in her manner when he looked down at her, "Jane did say that she would probably not be corresponding while in Italy, but write as soon as she arrives back in England."

"And when is that?" He asked.

"Perhaps when the new month begins," she said indifferently, "I cannot be certain. Has not Mr. Bingley written to you?"

"Bingley can be described as an indifferent correspondent at best," he said fondly.

"Mr. Darcy," she turned towards him, halting their motion, "there is something that I have been meaning to ask you."

Darcy immediately became uncomfortable. Should he reply if she asks about some memory related to him, more importantly, would he be able to deny her? He nodded for her to go on.

"What made you change your mind," she asked forthrightly, "about Mr. Bingley marrying my sister?"

"You," he said simply, relieved that she did not ask him about anything that might have happened between them. And yet there was the ache of disappointment as well, for he longed for her to remember. But this new line of thought, though unexpected, did not have him at a disadvantage, for he had also longed to clarify himself about the issues that he had previously addressed in the letter.

"Me?" She looked bewildered, "how so?" she asked as she detached her arm from his.

"Your words to be exact," he amended his earlier statement and then continued a little hesitatingly, for the mention of that evening at Hunsford still caused him some pain, "what you said to me at the Parsonage," he said averting his gaze from her penetrating one, "about being the man who ruined the happiness of your sister."

"Mr. Darcy I did not mean to be so harsh," her expression softened, "it is just that…" But Darcy did not allow her to continue.

"You were correct in most, if not all of your accusations Miss Bennet," he said firmly, "what you said made me realize that my observations of one evening were inadequate to compete with your intimate knowledge of the true feelings of your sister."

"What do you mean, sir," she looked utterly perplexed now, "by '_your observations of one evening?' _I do not have the pleasure of understanding you."

"Forgive me Miss Bennet," he winced as he remembered that she did not remember anything about the past, not even his reason for separating the now husband and wife, "Allow me to explain my motive for doing so." He motioned for her to take a seat on a nearby rock and then settled down beside her after she did. "At the Netherfield Ball, I gathered from the general impression of the community gathered there that everyone expected Bingley to soon get engaged to the then Miss Jane Bennet."

"You mean my mother," Elizabeth sighed in irritation, whether at him or her mother, he could not tell and since she did not say it as a question, he decided to go on with his narrative without any reference to it.

"I was aware that Bingley had a deep regard for your sister and therefore," he pushed some wayward hair off his forehead, "fool that I was, I set out to observe her behaviour towards him. Exactly like on previous occasions, I did not see any symptom of an attachment in her. Her manner, though pleasing and attentive towards my friend, was no different to him than it was to me."

"But Jane though open and amiable in general, is likewise reserved when it comes to a display of her feelings on a public event," Elizabeth was quick to come to the defense of her beloved sister.

"Indeed, Miss Bennet," he concurred easily with her, "I am in complete accord with you **now **that I know and understand her disposition, but at that time my only thought was of saving Bingley, who is very dear to me, from a loveless marriage."

"So you advised him against it because you thought Jane indifferent and not because of the objections you raised at…the...err…Parsonage," she ended the sentence a little haltingly, colour spreading on her cheeks.

"Yes," he nodded and averted his eyes, "for those reasons would not have held any ground with Bingley. He does not have any sense of pride, Miss Bennet."

"But does he not likewise have any sense of determination either?" She said a little hotly now as her dark eyes flashed dangerously, "I do blame you for interfering with his decision Mr. Darcy, but the decision was never yours to make. **He **should have chosen the path according to his own conscience."

"You do him an injustice Miss Bennet," he shook his head, "you, I know to be of a stronger mind than most and would not probably seek advice on matters of the heart, but have you never had a friend who seeks your advice on all things, no matter how trivial? There are always people in our circle who find it difficult to make a decision, and therefore look up to us for guidance. If we cannot provide it with responsibility, then the error lies with us, not them."

"Indeed you are right Mr. Darcy," she cried, as she sat a little forwarder on her rock, "and I would never have thought on it with this perspective in mind if you had not mentioned it just now." She looked at him with mingled awe and annoyance.

"I have been known to be correct once in a while, Miss Bennet," he said dryly, as the corners of her eyes crinkled.

"And so you convinced him to go back to Jane?" She asked eagerly.

"It was not so much convincing as accepting the blame and telling him that I was mistaken," he looked back intently, willing her to forgive him silently.

"Oh this is splendid," she clasped her hands together as her dark eyes twinkled, and she teased, "I never thought you could beg anyone's forgiveness, your own temper seems too unforgiving for that."

"My temper is unforgiving for **some, **indeed," he admitted, staring at the horizon, with Wickham in mind, and then he turned towards her, his expression becoming instantly gentle, "but, I hope, not for all." He stood up and offered her his arm to take.

"Would you," she got up but did not take his arm immediately, "elaborate on this statement a little further, sometime soon," she finished looking meaningfully at him.

"Only if you promise to trust my version of the events," he returned equally.

"Did I not prove that I trust you just now?" She looked archly at Darcy and his heart soared to new heights. Her words were sweet melody to his ears, for was not trust a key element in a relationship, "what else should I do to make you believe me?" She asked pertly.

"Take my arm," he said in his usual dry manner, "it might get a crick otherwise, for I have been standing in this attitude for these fifteen minutes at least."

"Mr. Darcy," she said in mock indignation as she quickly took his arm, "how you do exaggerate."

"What is your verdict then, Miss Bennet?" Darcy asked, gently pulling her closer and began to walk towards the cottage, "am I still the soul of pride, arrogance and conceit?"

"I have already answered this question earlier today, sir," she smiled mischievously at him.

"Had you?" A slow smile began to appear on his lips as he looked deeply into her eyes, and repeated the words he had used on the carriage ride from Lambton to Pemberley, "I had not noticed."

Elizabeth stared emptily at him and then she tripped on a rock and fell. Though Darcy was quick to catch her arm and pull her back, she almost would have fallen to the ground if she had not supported her other hand on the wet sand.

"Miss Bennet," he asked worriedly, "are you hurt?"

"Mr. Darcy," she looked oddly at him, "the other day, in the rain, when I told you that your legs were entirely too long, you said that this was the second time I had said it," Darcy nodded, confused as to where this was leading, "did I utter it during a carriage ride the first time?" She looked up hopefully at him.

"I am not sure we should be discussing this Miss Bennet," he averted his eyes as he handed her his handkerchief to wipe her hand on.

"Why not?" she asked petulantly as she wiped her hand, "I remembered it on my own, it is not a memory I might have created by gathering information from others."

"Yes, but the doctor said…"

"Are you going to tell me or not, Mr. Darcy?" She asked pointedly as she put the handkerchief aside and moved a lock of hair from her face.

A smile suddenly broke out on Darcy's face. She looked like a child in that moment, with her wrinkled eyebrows and the sand that her fingers had left at one side of her chin.

"You have," he pointed at her face, "a bit of sand on your chin."

"Where?" She quickly wiped her cheek with her other hand.

"Not your cheek," he shook his head, "your chin."

She now tried to clean, her already spotless, other side of the chin. Darcy kept trying to point her in the right direction but she kept wiping everywhere but the spot where the sand clung to her face. Not thinking and in exasperation, Darcy supported her chin on his fingers and gently wiped the sand off with his thumb.

"It is here," as soon as he touched her soft skin, his heart pounded wildly within his ribcage and his voice became soft as his touch became gentle. He now brushed the remaining grains of sand away with his fingers as Elizabeth looked up at him in surprise and something else that he could not name. Darcy brushed her skin lightly one last time and could not deny himself the pleasure of taking the corner of her mouth within his touch. Her eyes darkened further as his heart pressed him to steal a kiss from those inviting lips, just one kiss.

"There," his voice sounded strange to his own ears and he quickly stepped back as if to get away from the spell that her presence always cast on him, "all cleaned up now."

"I thank you," her voice sounded a little shaken as well.

Darcy simply nodded and gave her his arm and she took it as they both started towards the cottage once again. Darcy's feelings were in such a turmoil that he did not know what to say and Elizabeth also stayed completely silent during their short walk to the cottage. They separated once inside the door, each needing time to recover from what had just happened.

**Next Chapter : Legs of a Mermaid**


	31. Chapter 31

**Memory reference: ****Chapter 19; the scene where Darcy bids Elizabeth good night in front of her bedroom door at Pemberley, after their tryst in the library. Elizabeth's POV.**

**Chapter 31: Legs of a Mermaid**

After dinner, all the young people got around the fire in the relatively small front parlour of the cottage. Admiral and Mrs. Trent along with Mrs. Collier had gone straight to bed on the plea of fatigue. Mr. Mark had completely manipulated Rose's time and so Elizabeth had not been able to talk to her for even five minutes together ever since they had come down to the beach earlier that day. Right now she sat with a very tired looking Georgiana on the sofa near the fire as seaside, she had found out, could get quite chilly in the night.

"I do wish you would all stop behaving like you are all ninety years old," complained Miss Isabella as she sat in the middle of the room near the centre table, "and play this awfully fun new charade that I found in Mrs. Broadhurst's new novel."

"Bella, I do believe that everyone assembled in this room at the moment is too old to play charades," Irene replied calmly from besides Lt. Trent.

"La, you are not too old to play charades with James," Miss Isabella mocked.

"I do not understand your meaning," Miss Irene replied coldly.

"Would the word '_library' _help?"Miss Isabella wagged her eyebrows in a most diverting way. A deep red suffused the cheeks of both Lt. Trent and Miss Irene and Elizabeth could not help but be curious of what went on in the said library.

"That will be quite enough Bella," Miss Collier's icy voice pierced the room, "such behaviour shall not induce any of us to play the charades you so long for."

"I will be nice Ilythia," the youngest Collier looked at her elder sister with such innocence that it was difficult believe some of the things that came out of her pert little mouth, "I promise. Just please let us play _'I Shall Assign,' _it is much more enjoyable than sitting in this indolent manner."

Everyone nodded and Miss Isabella proceeded to explain the rules of the game. Elizabeth rolled her eyes as she realized that everyone in the room had basically agreed to do the clever Miss Isabella's bidding for the length of the game and she thanked God that she had declined on the pretense of a headache as had Georgiana on the plea of fatigue.

Elizabeth looked towards where the players had assembled and her eyes got entangled with Mr. Darcy's, who made no move to shift his focus on anything else in the room. Elizabeth's heart rate increased quickly, as she turned her head and stared at the fire. The game had started on the other end of the room, as someone or the other picked up a slip of paper and then Miss Isabella proceeded to ask them questions, failing to answer which she assigned them a task which they must comply with.

She kept her eyes averted as Georgiana's head slowly came to rest upon her shoulder and she drifted off to sleep. Elizabeth slowly moved her fingers in her hair as she contemplated the day that had passed. Again Mr. Darcy dominated her reminiscences of the day. She had at last gathered enough courage to ask him about Jane and his answer had gone a long way in curbing her misgivings. For once she was glad that he had not turned out to be as wicked as she had thought him previously. It was true that he had tried to divide Jane from Bingley, but fortunately it was not because he thought her beneath him but only because he thought her indifferent to Mr. Bingley. She recalled the relief she had felt at that revelation and it once again spread through her like a wave, an immense wave.

She did not want to dwell on why Mr. Darcy turning out to be an honourable gentleman should affect her so powerfully, she just relished that feeling. Elizabeth's eyes turned towards the other room and she felt some surprise at finding that only Rose, Miss Collier, Miss Isabella and Mr. Darcy remained. Mr. Darcy suddenly raised his hand and ran it through his hair and then rested it lightly on the arm of his chair. Elizabeth stared at his hand as the memory of the same hand holding her chin flooded her mind. She touched her cold hand to her burning cheek as she thought of the gentleness with which his fingers had brushed her chin and part of her lips.

A sudden tremor coursed through her as she recalled the darkening of his eyes and the slight dip of his head that had made her think, for one exhilarating moment, that he was probably going to kiss her. That thought should have been mortifying to her, but to her surprise, it was anything but. Elizabeth squirmed uncomfortably on the soft sofa, _'first I dream of a man kissing me," _she thought guiltily, _'and then I anticipate Mr. Darcy's kiss, what on Earth has happened to me?'_

She looked up again and found Miss Collier leaving through the front door. She frowned in bewilderment, _'what kind of a game is it?' _Just then Miss Isabella grinned in a rather evil manner and Rose got up with a scowl and left the room. Elizabeth now gave her full attention to the only two players left.

"It is your turn now, William," Miss Isabella's triumphant manner was proof that Mr. Darcy did not stand a chance against whatever wickedness she had planned for him.

"So it would seem," he replied nonchalantly as he watched the young girl with hooded eyes. Elizabeth was now paying special attention to the heretofore ignored game.

"I shall ask you five questions then," she began.

"And I shall answer them all," he agreed.

"Have you ever been in love?" She went for the jugular. Elizabeth looked for any sign for discomfiture on Mr. Darcy's handsome face but found only indifference.

"Yes," he replied in a manner that bespoke boredom.

"How many times?" She asked again. Elizabeth sat up a little, well as much as she could with Georgiana's head on her shoulder. She found this line of questioning extremely interesting. Her dark eyes were now fixed with the utmost concentration on Mr. Darcy's face.

"Twice," again there was no emotion in his voice but his answer awoke multiple such in Elizabeth's mind. She felt a strange unease slowly engulfing her, at the thought of Mr. Darcy loving someone other than her. It was true that she did not think him in love with her anymore, she had also at times contemplated his being in love with some one else like Jane or Miss Collier. But thinking something was one thing and having it confirmed to her face was another, and a rather discomfiting thought at that.

"Who are they?" Miss Isabella asked and Elizabeth's heart almost broke the confines of her ribcage. How could she ask such a question, and why would Mr. Darcy consent to answer it?

"Women," was his dry reply. For a moment no one spoke and then Elizabeth chuckled, loud enough for the players to turn around and look at her. Miss Isabella's look was all annoyance, whereas Mr. Darcy's eyes shone with amusement.

"That is not what I meant," she huffed.

"Then you should phrase your questions more clearly," he remained unmoved.

"I do not need the answer to this question anyhow. Besides you just want me to waste questions so you could be the victor," she spat.

"I must pay you the compliment of understanding me perfectly dear Bella, now let us proceed to the next question without further delay."

"Whom did you love better, the first one or the second," Miss Isabella's features got overspread with complaisance, as if she knew that he would not be able to answer this question. Elizabeth found herself holding her breath as seconds passed.

"The second," Mr. Darcy's answer came promptly. Elizabeth felt something break inside her heart, he did not love her anymore, his heart was now someone else's. She experienced a strange hollowness spreading inside her, as her hands went numb.

"You lie," Miss Isabella cried but Darcy remained unmoved. "Why do you not love the first one better?" She asked a little bitterly.

"The second is kinder to me," he replied calmly. Elizabeth felt oddly angry, it was obvious that he was referring to her cutting remarks on the day of the proposal.

"Not because she is more beautiful?" Miss Isabella asked again but Mr. Darcy now stood up and looked pityingly at her.

"You have already used up all your questions Bella," he said firmly, "and since I have answered every single one of them, I now am the victor of this childish** charade, **that I had no inclination of playing in the first place, and you must perform the task that I assign," he said effectively turning the tables on her.

"I…you…fine," she said stubbornly folding her arms on her chest and staring defiantly at him.

"You shall go out," Mr. Darcy said in an authoritative tone, "find everyone who is forced to stay outside on this cold night, send them back and then wait by the beach until you are called inside." Elizabeth blanched and Miss Isabella stared at Mr. Darcy.

"You cannot make me," her voice quivered a little, "It is so cold outside."

"If everyone else can stay out for this long," he shrugged is shoulders, "I am sure that you shall manage just fine as well."

"I…I." she stammered, effectively cowered.

"Let this be a lesson to you Bella," Mr. Darcy said pointedly as he walked to the door and held it open for Miss Isabella who walked dejectedly to the door, "for selfishly forcing everyone out in the cold and dark night." She exited slowly and Mr. Darcy closed the door behind her and turned towards an astonished Elizabeth.

"Too harsh," Darcy raised an eyebrow at her as he came to stand in front of her and by the hearth, "do you think?"

"Perhaps," she replied somewhat absently, her mind still occupied with the revelation Mr. Darcy had just made.

"You were clever Miss Bennet," he told her in an irritated manner, "to refuse to play. Never have I been more repentant of giving in to the demands of courtesy, not that I often do, but Bella is quite hard to refuse."

"But you outwitted her when everyone else had fallen an easy prey to her machinations," she looked carefully at him, trying to lead him back to the questions he was asked and the answers he gave.

"I did have the advantage of being the oldest," his eyes twinkled, "and therefore more experienced in outmaneuvering my younger cousins. I do happen to know how Bella's mind works just as well as her mother knows how mine does. I was one of the first among her family to hold her after she was born," his eyes shone with remembrance, "and for a while I was just as fond of her as I am of Georgiana, but," he stopped and his face became grave, "she has become quite…wild with the passage of time."

"She is young," Elizabeth's heart immediately softened at his disappointment at how the young girl had turned out, "she would grow out of this age soon enough, I dare say." Darcy sighed and got away from the hearth as he started pacing in front of the fire, reminding Elizabeth of that far off evening at the Parsonage.

"Did you not hear the manner in which she asked me those…those…inane questions?" He asked with annoyance, "should a proper young lady be asking such questions from someone old enough to be her father?

"Surely you are not that old Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth suppressed her smile with difficulty. Strangely enough, his exasperation at the whole incident, curbed her own. He halted mid-step and gave her a tired smile as his eyes moved to Georgiana.

"But I do feel old at times," he raked his hands through his hair, his eyes never leaving his sister's face, "responsibilities are odd things, Miss Bennet. Where fulfilling them is highly satisfactory, it also leaves you tremendously weary."

Elizabeth's heart went out to him. Never had she seen him so vulnerable or so tired. He always appeared completely in command of his life and there was always an air of leashed power about him as well. To see him thus dejected by a small incident related to a charade seemed quite unfathomable to Elizabeth. Perhaps there was more to his suddenly dejected spirits than what met the eye, she looked carefully at him and could not help but notice the way he kept staring at Georgiana. Elizabeth had rarely seen a young woman of such decorous and modest nature, Georgiana seemed to her a model of how a young woman should be, then why did Mr. Darcy look at his sister with so much pain in his eyes.

"What kind of questions sent the rest of the party out in the night?" Elizabeth changed the subject, hoping that it would change his mood also.

"The same kind," he shrugged his shoulders as he turned to stare at the flames.

"And none of them answered?" She felt incredulous when he shook his head and wondered, _'did everyone have something to hide regarding affairs of the heart.' _"But you did," she said pointedly.

"I had nothing to hide," he turned towards her now, his eyes dark and bottomless.

"So what you told her was true?" Elizabeth asked, her heart beating wildly, silently willing Mr. Darcy to give an answer in the negative.

"Some of it was," he looked directly into her eyes.

"Did you lie, Mr. Darcy," She looked and felt incredulous, "but you once said that disguise of every sort is your abhorrence?"

"I did not lie, Miss Bennet," she had a distinct impression that he was laughing at her, "I just phrased the truth in a way that would make Bella forget that her goal was to send me out and not to get too caught up in her own questions."

"So it is true that you have been in love twice?" She asked a little hesitatingly now, without looking directly at him.

"No," he replied firmly, "I most certainly have not."

"You have been in love with **more than two** women?" Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise.

"Why do you always twist my words Miss Bennet?" He narrowed his eyes at her, "couldn't what I said mean that I have been in love **once and only** **once?"**

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment before her heart thumped loud enough for the whole world to hear. _'Could it be true,' _She wondered dreamily, _'that I am the only woman he has ever loved? Could he still love me?' _She realized that it was just word play that she had fallen into the habit of having with Mr. Darcy. He obviously meant nothing by it, and she also now understood that what he told Miss Isabella was also probably just to dissuade her, nothing more. She knew all that, but she still could not stop herself from asking the next question.

"Have you?" Her eyes searched his impassive face for answers.

"You forget the rules of the charade Miss Bennet," he drawled as the reflection of the flames danced in his clear blue eyes, "you only get to ask five questions."

At first Elizabeth only smiled grudgingly at his quip, but then it turned into a full blown laugh that tinkered through the empty parlour. _'And I am supposed to be the one with all the wit,' _she shook her head at this thought.

"It seems as though Bella has not been successful in finding any of the party," he took out his watch and looked at it, "the hour gets late."

"Mayhap we should go search for them," she asked a little worriedly.

"They cannot have gone far," he said thoughtfully, "I would go bring them all back but I must deposit Georgiana into her room and you must also retire for the night Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth nodded and watched in awe as he came near Georgiana and with one fluid movement, picked her up in his arms.

"Could you please hold the door open for us?" He asked after hesitating a little.

"Of course," she quickly got up from the sofa, opened the door as she walked on towards Georgiana's room, next to her own, in order to open the door to that as well.

Elizabeth opened the door and entered the small but comfortable room. She moved towards the bed as Mr. Darcy entered with a soundly asleep Georgiana in his arms and turned the quilt over. Mr. Darcy gently placed the sleeping form of his sister on the bed and Elizabeth hastened to tuck her in. An image of Jane came unbidden to her, as the sisters often tucked each other in, and on an impulse she bent down and kissed Georgiana softly on her forehead. She straightened up to find Mr. Darcy staring at her from near the open door of the room.

"Jane and I often kissed each other good night before going to sleep," she explained needlessly as he held the door open for her to move out.

"You must miss this good night ritual then," he commented as she passed by him and walked on towards her own door a few feet away. Elizabeth turned around and nodded without saying anything as she stopped at the door to her own room and faced Mr. Darcy.

"Good night Mr. Darcy," she said and smiled up at him.

"Good night," he said somewhat huskily as he stepped closer to her. Elizabeth watched in fascination as he bent his head, for a moment it seemed as though he would kiss her forehead but then he grabbed her hand gently in his own and took it to his lips, all the while staring into her eyes. His kiss was brief but still managed to send a bolt of lightening down her body and then he quickly stepped back, "proxy for Mrs. Bingley."

Elizabeth could hardly breathe as she watched him give a graceful bow and then vanish out into the night through the front door. Images of another night, another corridor and another man giving her a kiss on another part of her body assaulted her thoughts. She did not know how long she stood in the empty corridor before she remembered that it was late and she should probably go to bed now.

As she stood in front of the small vanity in the corner of the room after changing into her simple night attire, she stared at her hand, wonderingly. Had he really kissed her? With his lips? Well that was a rather silly question, for from where else could he possibly kiss. She blushed again and again as she relived that single moment of utter confusion and bliss? She stared at herself in the dim light of the candles and could barely recognize the glazed look in her eyes. She walked towards her bed and a picture of Mr. Darcy as he stood in the corridor and looked at her filled her eyes. She got into the bed and pulled the covers up as she once again gave in to the sensation of that kiss. She recalled how he had dipped his head, how in one fluid motion his soft yet firm lips had touched her hand and how that tremor had traveled through her body, making butterflies take wing in her belly.

Elizabeth curled up as she closed her eyes, not wanting to let go of the feeling that his single touch had created and afraid too that if she went to sleep, the other man from her dreams would ruin the elation of Mr. Darcy's kiss, by giving her one of his own. But a tired Elizabeth Bennet soon drifted off to sleep, a sleep that brought with it images of a forgotten past.

_**She walked through a long corridor with someone by her side and stopped in front of a door**_

_**'Go to sleep,' said a man's voice as he brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers…**_

_**'Not yet,' she held his hand against her face…'you should go and sleep now,' she said**_

_**"I doubt if I will be able to sleep tonight," he drew her closer….**_

_**'Why is that?' She asked. He did not answer but dipped his head and kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers for a few moments before parting.**_

_**'I think you know,' he whispered and then was gone.**_

_**She wanted to call him back, to ask him to turn around, to beg him to relieve her of this suspense that gnawed at her, but her voice got choked as everything vanished around her and…**_

Her eyes fluttered open and she realized with relief that she was still in the small cottage room. As her heart beat slowed down, her eyes began to get accustomed to the almost darkness in the room. The candles had been blown out, probably by Rose who was now softly snoring beside her, but the white lace curtains showed that it was indeed the crack of dawn.

Elizabeth got up and went to the corner where she had hung her coat last night when she came back from the walk with Mr. Darcy. _'Mr. Darcy,' _she closed her eyes for a moment, _'I shall not think about you anymore.' _She quickly got into the coat, went to the wash stand and splashed her face with water, dried it up and then went to the vanity to brush her hair and tie it up with a ribbon.

She softly closed the front door behind her, as she stepped outside in the cold air. She was quite sure that no one else had woken up yet and she wanted that fact to remain unchanged till she came back from her pre-morning excursion. She quickly walked away from the cottage towards that portion of the beach where the cliff could keep her hidden from anyone approaching from the other side.

Elizabeth shrugged out of her coat and placed it on a rock after removing her slippers. She took quick measured steps towards the water and closed her eyes as wave after wave wrapped around her ankle. _'He should not have kissed me,' _she thought as she gathered her night gown up to give the water access to her calves. What could he possibly mean by it? Was it because he felt sorry for me for being away from Jane? She quickly opened her eyes, _'anything, anything but his pity,' _she thought morosely.

Elizabeth moved her gown further up as she walked ahead in the cold water. It was customary for men to kiss women's hands or at least bow on them as they welcomed them or bid them adieu, surely Mr. Darcy meant nothing else by that kiss. She had often observed Mr. Mark kiss Rose's hand before parting and he had, on more than one occasions kissed her hand likewise. She kept on walking until, she could not go any further without exposing her legs fully. It was just an ordinary, commonplace and dull little kiss that signified nothing whatsoever, except that it was anything but, and it did mean **something, **to her at least.

She stood and stared at the horizon that was starting to get overspread with beautiful colours, just like her universe had taken on a million hues in that one moment. Why, she kicked at the water that now enveloped her leg till above her knees, why did she feel that way when she did not even like him. But no, her dislike had been done away a long time ago, even before Jane's wedding, or maybe after it. It seemed such a long time that she could not even remember when her aversion to him had died.

She gazed at the waves as they crashed against her legs and then receded. Elizabeth turned around and started to walk back towards the sand. Her shoulders slumped as she became conscious that she had started to feel something for Mr. Darcy. She knew not what it was, she could not even comprehend it, but there was no denying the existence of it. She reached the shore and dropped her gown as it pooled around her ankles. She had to stop it, before it consumed her. She could not allow Mr. Darcy to acquire a place in her heart that had been vacant heretofore.

She slowly slipped into her coat and absently buttoned it up. There was an abyss between them, their worlds were too different, too apart. If there was one thing that he had made clear in his proposal, it was the difference between their status, their families even their minds. _'He also made his ardent love for you clear,' _her treacherous heart whispered.

She sat down on a rock and started to make a sand castle. She had observed a subtle difference between the Mr. Darcy of Hertfordshire and the Mr. Darcy of Torquay, and she could only gather that either she had been mistaken previously or he had changed. She pondered upon their meetings in Torquay, every time that they were alone, something happened that made her see him in a new light, a light too, that showed him to the best of advantage.

She sighed and wrote her initials on the sand before getting up and walking off to sit on a larger rock, further away from the sea. How simple would life had been if Mr. Darcy had not come to Torquay, if he had not been so charming, so considerate towards her, if he had not kissed her hand. She sighed again as she stared off at the sea.

…

The water was cold, too cold, but he wanted to feel numb, he did not want to feel the million beautiful things that he had been feeling since last night. Darcy swam further into the sea as thoughts of Elizabeth's hand, her soft white hand in his grasp, under his lips, assaulted his mind. His carefully held together self control had come tumbling down as she stood in the corridor wishing him a good night.

It was true that he had wanted to do more, much more than to simply kiss her hand, but in the now breaking dawn, even that seemed to be too much for his resolve. His body went rigid as he floated on the waves for some moments before swimming back to the shore. Darcy was not sorry for his actions of the previous night, indeed he could never lament kissing that woman, his only concern was that now she would avoid him and the feelings of empathy that had been slowly building between them would be no more.

He reached the shore and quickly put on his clothes. But maybe his analysis of the whole situation was wrong, after all she had been friendly enough after he had needlessly brushed the sand off her face. Her behaviour last night was perfectly cordial after they were left alone in the parlour with a sleeping Georgiana. Darcy started walking back towards the cottage. There was that one moment last night where it had seemed as though his answers in Bella's silly game had discomfited her. His heart beat a little faster as he realized that she probably had been made uncomfortable by the knowledge that he had been in love twice and not once. Could it mean that she had begun to feel the first stirrings of something akin to partiality?

The cliff now stood like a wall between him and the side where the cottage was. As Darcy took a few steps towards it his eyes fell on a vision bathed in the early light of dawn. It was Elizabeth, standing in the blue sea like a mermaid. But then she turned around and started walking towards the shore, exposing her shapely legs to his scrutiny. Darcy could neither blink nor breathe and his ability to move also seemed temporarily impaired.

She took small measured steps, deep in thought, till she reached the sand. Darcy merely stared at her, as he took in the shape of her legs from her milky thighs to her slender calves that tapered into delicate ankles. As Elizabeth's gown came down, covering her up, Darcy almost jumped behind the cliff to hide himself from her line of vision, for she could forgive him for kissing her hand but if she found him ogling her like a buffoon, she was sure to murder him at least.

He took deep calming breaths, but the sensations the sight of her uncovered legs had aroused were not easy to overcome. _'Good God, she is beautiful,' _he thought closing his eyes and imagined her coming out of the water again. He stood in the same posture, reclined against the rocky wall, for a few minutes before he came back to his senses and started walking towards the cottage. As he turned the corner that the rocks, piled up on one another had created, his foot unintentionally kicked into a sand castle.

"You have destroyed my sand castle Mr. Darcy," a well known and well loved voice called out from some way off.

"Miss Bennet," he nearly jumped as he turned around and found her sitting in a perfectly proper attire on a rock. No part of her luscious legs visible anymore, unfortunately, "I did not know anyone would be up and about making sandcastles this early."

"Is this your first time?" She arched an eyebrow. Darcy frowned, _'what is she playing at?'_

"First time, Miss Bennet," he arched an eyebrow as well, "for what, if I may ask?"

"Being wrong, of course," she shrugged her shoulders and looked wryly at him from her perch atop the rock.

He looked carefully at her, she seemed to be in a strange mood. She was making conversation all right, but she appeared, somehow, ill at ease. It could be that she felt awkward because of how he had kissed her outside her door last night, then what would she do if she found out how many times and how passionately he had kissed her before. Darcy walked in long strides towards her and plopped down on the sand at her feet, resting his back at the same rock that she sat upon, close to her legs, those tempting legs.

"I am flattered that you think I could never be wrong," he tilted his head back and looked at her from below, _'I shall make her smile and forget her unease,' _he resolved.

"I think no such thing," she straightened her shoulders as colour seeped up her cheeks.

"So what **do** you think?" He pressed on, her proximity making his head float.

"Why should you be interested in what I think?" She argued. _'Obstinate girl,' _Darcy thought inside his head.

"I am not concerned about what you think," he replied stoically, "I just want to know what you think of me."

"Why would I think about you, Mr. Darcy?" She replied his question with one of her own, her features becoming taut.

"No reason," he agreed, "except that I think it would be a pretty good thing if you started to think about me."

"If the word think came out of your mouth one more time I **think **that I shall scream," she said impishly, a smile breaking out on her lips.

"That does sound…err…tempting," he said trying hard not to smile.

"Oh believe me," she chuckled, "it is not."

"I believe you," he nodded, straightening his head.

"How come you are up so early?" She asked, "It must have taken you quite sometime to find everyone else and bring them back."

"I found Ilythia almost immediately," he told her, "she had not strayed too far. But Mark and Miss Trent had wandered rather far off, as had Trent and Irene."

"And Miss Isabella?" She asked with curiosity in her voice.

"She was the last one I found," Darcy said uneasily, he had found her crying at the back of the cottage, "she hates me **exceedingly **now."

"Do not worry about it," she consoled him, "she is at an age when one constantly hates someone or another **exceedingly."**

"Did you?" he asked, his head tilting back to look at her again.

"Sometimes," she blushed, "and you?"

"No," he said firmly, "I was rather content as a young boy. _'The propensity to hate everybody,' _as you once called it, had not developed then."

"Mr. Darcy I do wish you would forget all those silly things I once said," she said averting her eyes.

"Miss Bennet," he said standing up from his place at her feet and looking down at her, "If I asked you to forget all the tactless things I have said in the past, **after **I explain myself fully, would you?"

"I shall answer your question if you answer mine," she tilted her head to a side, the rays of a fast emerging sun surrounding her. Darcy nodded, mesmerized. "Have we had this conversation before, I mean, have you…you and I…have we promised to forgive and forget before?"

Darcy was in a dilemma, he wanted to tell her that they had but did not know if he should. In the end he decided to forget the doctor's orders for once and just do as his heart told him to.

"Yes," he said nodding his head and then quickly held up his hand as Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something, "but that is all the information you are going to obtain from me, Miss Bennet. I shall not be detailing the particulars of that conversation."

"Of course," she said pouting, "what do you care if I remain in the dark forever."

Darcy winced. He? Not care whether she got back her memory or not? If only she knew how much Darcy had riding on the return of her memory, she probably would not be sitting here and sulking about it. Some of Darcy's inner turmoil must have shown on his face for Elizabeth's expression changed quickly and she swiftly got off the rock and looked at him worriedly.

"Mr. Darcy, I did not mean…," she began with apprehension, but Darcy's joyful mood since last night had just undergone a major transformation.

"I have not been able to sleep all night Miss Bennet," he held up his hand to stop her from saying anything, "I believe I shall go and rest for a while before we leave for Highcombe."

He saw her face cloud over as he turned around to leave, but something in the sand arrested his notice. As he stepped nearer to the flattened sand castle, he saw that Elizabeth had written something in front of it on the sand. He bent a little to examine it closely and his breath got caught in his throat, for there on the sand were the initials of both their names, **E.F. **Darcy suddenly felt overwhelmed by the fact that she had, unknowingly, connected his name to hers. He turned around and saw that she was staring at the sand in mortification at somehow upsetting him. How heartbreakingly forlorn she looked. Darcy quickly walked over and offered her his arm.

"Would you accompany me to the cottage Miss Bennet?' He asked, his heart in his throat, his eyes alight with adoration for her. She looked up and her large dark eyes lit up immediately as she nodded and placed her hand on his arm.

"I thought the initials of your name would be E.B.," he asked testily as he took in her expression carefully, after they had walked on in silence for some distance, "what does the F stand for?"

"I do not know," she replied simply. Darcy raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled. "Honestly Mr. Darcy, I have no idea why I write F after E. But lately every time I put pen to paper, just to scribble some thought or when I test my pen before writing a letter, that is exactly what I do."

"So you have no idea who this 'F' might be?" He asked incredulously. She probably had no idea that F stood for his name. A sudden thought struck him then, with everyone calling him William , she might not even know that his real name was Fitzwilliam.

"I might have some," a deep blush started to spread over her cheeks as she met his eyes. Darcy raised both his eyebrows in wretched suspense, _'she might have some? What on Earth is that supposed to mean?"_

"I would rather not say," she averted her eyes now. _'Why the hell not?' _Darcy thought with irritation as they reached the front door to the cottage which he held open for her as she disappeared into the corridor.

Darcy spent most of the morning in his room falling in and out of sleep as doors opened and closed around him, the thin walls of the cottage making it impossible to block all the noises of a house bustling with so many young and restless people. In the middle of the hubbub he managed to have a short but pleasant dream where he had Elizabeth's creamy, tapering legs wrapped around him.

"Darcy, Darcy wake up man," someone shook his shoulder, "what has gotten into you, why are you sleeping at such an ungodly hour and smiling like an idiot?"

"What?" Darcy came to with a start and saw Mark staring at him with annoyance, "what is the time?"

"It is past noon," Mark informed him, "the carriages are ready to go, everyone is waiting for you. I had half a mind to go look for you at Hope's Nose. Everybody thought you had probably gone for a swim."

Darcy felt embarrassed at falling asleep for such a while when he had only meant to get a few winks. He quickly got up from the sofa and corrected his attire in the mirror before following Mark outside to the carriages. Once again there was some confusion about the seating arrangement with regard to the carriages, but Darcy quietly stood away from the rest, staring at the waves down below the cliff, trying to relish whatever little remained of the dream he had just had.

"William," Ilythia called him from near the carriages. He turned around and saw everyone still standing as he had left them. He sighed in exasperation, why could they not go back as they had arrived, with Elizabeth's legs, her beautiful legs knocking with his, why are there so many obstacles at every corner. He walked the few steps to the carriages languidly and stopped near Izzie.

"We cannot seem to decide who goes in which carriage again," Ilythia explained sounding a little irritated herself.

"Can we not go as we came?" He asked mirroring her tone as his eyes searched and found Elizabeth standing a little way away with Miss Trent.

"No," Ilythia replied firmly, "for Bella has refused to go in your carriage and Irene and James have had a bit of a fall out."

"Then make them switch places," he said tiredly, "Bella can go with Trent and Irene can come in our carriage."

"They are both being really adamant that they shall only go in our carriage," Mark rejected his suggestion.

"So let them," he shrugged his shoulders, "Ilythia can come with us and Miss Trent can go with her parents."

"But Miss Trent and Miss Bennet want to be together." Mark objected, looking sourly at him.

"All right, Miss Trent can come with us and Ilythia can go with the Trents."

"But what would I say to them throughout the journey?' She complained.

"Ilythia even though I do not expect you to be so silly, still," he said rolling his eyes and relinquishing Elizabeth's position in his carriage, "you and Trent can come with us and Miss Trent and Miss Bennet can go in the Trent carriage."

"But I want to go in my own carriage," Lt. Trent was ready with another objection.

"Then it is hopeless, is it not?" Darcy turned towards his Aunt and the mirth in her eyes almost made him smile.

"I think that if Mama agrees to go with Trent, and Georgie in our carriage then Miss Trent and I can come in yours," Mark suggested.

Darcy though loath to be separated from Georgiana and not really understanding the arrangement, nodded just to put an end to the argument and agreed to whatever plan Mark had concocted. He handed Georgiana into the Collier's carriage and turned around towards his. As he stepped inside his eyes narrowed immediately, Elizabeth was sitting on the other side of the carriage opposite Mark, laughing at something he said. He sat heavily on his side, opposite Miss Trent, folding his _'entirely too long legs' _so they would not come into contact with hers and tapped the roof of the carriage, signaling the driver to begin the journey.

"Surely you jest Mr. Mark," Elizabeth said looking at him in amused disbelief, "I must have been in an exceptionally bad mood to be this rude to someone I had just met."

"Oh believe me my dear Miss Bennet," Mark said dropping his voice and bending a little towards her, "he deserved it."

Darcy had a strange vision of strangling Mark, and he thoroughly enjoyed it, unlike the current conversation that was being carried out between his Elizabeth and the throttle-worthy Mark.

"Is it the ball that you two first met at?" Miss Trent asked smiling, "the one you do not remember Lizzy?"

"Yes," Elizabeth replied pleasantly, "and indeed Mr. Mark, you must not tell me anything, it is strictly forbidden."

"And have you never done anything that is forbidden before Miss Bennet?" Mark asked flirtatiously. This time the image Darcy had in mind was that of holding Mark's head under water till he swore never to flirt again.

"Depends on what you call **forbidden **Mr. Mark," she replied indifferently as she turned her eyes to what was passing by outside and Darcy relaxed, of course Elizabeth knew how not to flirt just as well as she knew how to.

"Do you know this Lord Barrington well Mr. Mark?" Miss Trent asked him curiously as Darcy tried hard to keep his legs to his side but a bump in the road made it impossible and his leg collided rather forcefully with Miss Trent's.

"I apologize Miss Trent," Darcy looked at the red faced woman with embarrassment but she smiled albeit a little weakly at him to reassure him that it was all right.

"Not that well," Mark frowned, "but he is a scoundrel of the first order."

"The name does sound familiar," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, "I heard my Aunt narrating a story about a Lady Felicity Barrington to my sister, Mrs. Bingley, before her wedding, but she did not continue after I entered the room. Was she at the ball as well?"

"No, indeed," Mark frowned, "what was the story in relation to?"

"I do not remember exactly," she knitted her brows in concentration, "maybe the advent of some new fashion or something."

Mark roared with laughter as Darcy felt his face heating up. _'Oh no,' _he thought in mortification as he looked towards Mark in warning, _'not that tale of horror.' _He seriously hoped that Mark would keep his mouth shut and not start babbling the whole embarrassing story out in front of the ladies. Elizabeth and Miss Trent looked on in suspense at Mark.

"That is a story, worth narrating," he said still chuckling, "but Darcy here might kill me if I did."

"Indeed," Elizabeth focused her piercing gaze on Darcy and he suddenly felt that his cravat was too tight, "and what role does Mr. Darcy play in it?"

"The pivotal role of a hunted male," Mark smiled broadly.

"That is quite enough Mark," Darcy gave him a severe look which sobered him up immediately.

"Oh do tell Mr. Mark," Rose said eagerly.

"Do not worry Rose," Elizabeth eyed Darcy playfully, "I would ask my Aunt and then you shall know all the details."

Darcy turned his head away, knowing that his colour had heightened to a bright red now. The rest of the journey passed with the three other occupants of the carriage teasing him till he wanted to scream, but maintained a haughty, if slightly red façade on the outside.

As Darcy handed Elizabeth down the carriage, he held onto her hand as Mark and Miss Trent walked off to a terrace where the servants were setting up tea and the rest of the Trents were already established.

"I might go for a walk in the woods tomorrow morning," he said in low tones as they slowly started walking towards the terrace, "to clear my head and to **clarify **some things." He looked meaningfully at her, willing her to be the intelligent woman he knew her to be.

"I go there almost every day," she returned his look with an understanding one of her own, "and I find it rather comforting when things get **clarified."**

"Then maybe we shall meet there," his eyes focused on her dark orbs.

"Maybe we shall," she bowed her head and then raised it again.

"At nine, perhaps?" He asked a little hesitantly.

"I find that half the fun in things, Mr. Darcy," she said impishly, "is the element of surprise, and a little waiting around should do you much good," she threw him a tantalizing smile and stepped up the two stairs to the terrace, sitting besides her friend.

**Next Chapter: A Profound Flashback and an Essential Explanation**


	32. Chapter 32

**Memory reference: Chapter 19, the scene inside the secret chamber within the library at Pemberley. Elizabeth's POV.**

**A/N: Please read the above mentioned scene very carefully before reading this chapter, otherwise you would not understand what is happening. Thank you.**

**Chapter 32: A Profound Flashback and an Essential Explanation**

The morning after they had returned from their seaside excursion, Elizabeth awoke with the anticipation of meeting Mr. Darcy in the woods and have the suspense of what really happened between him and Mr. Wickham resolved. She dressed for the morning with unusual care without dwelling too much on the reasons for such diligence, and climbed down the stairs to find the dining parlour occupied by Rose alone, who apparently was finished with her breakfast.

Elizabeth had felt some reticence in Rose's behaviour since they had come back but could not understand what it was owed to. As she took a seat opposite her now, she again found Rose keeping her eyes carefully averted from her face.

"Did you sleep well Rose?" She asked pleasantly, trying to disperse whatever was ailing her friend.

"Yes," was her simple answer.

"Are you feeling alright?" Elizabeth tried again picking up a toast and buttering it, "you have not been yourself since yesterday."

"I…yes…," she began to say something but halted in mid-sentence, looked carefully at Elizabeth and then she suddenly blurted out, "are you in love with Mr. Mark?"

"What?" Elizabeth almost poked her wrist with the butter knife, that was thankfully quite blunt, "Heaven and Earth Rose," she cried, "what could give you such a preposterous idea?"

"You did flirt with him quite determinedly on our way back from the beach," Rose said defensively as she stirred her tea with much more vigour than such a trivial task required.

Elizabeth had a moment of panic. _'Could Mr. Darcy also be labouring under the same misapprehension?' _She thought worriedly, but then quickly rejected her surmise. He would not have asked her to come to the woods if he was angry at her, but it was a presumption of the highest order on her part to think that her behaviour towards other men might affect Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth sighed and pushed Mr. Darcy out of her mind for the moment as a pouting Rose needed her attention more.

"I did not flirt with Mr. Mark , Rose," she said in a calm voice, "we merely shared a joke or two," and then took a small bite of her toast.

"Then why was he constantly bending over you?" Rose asked a little hotly now, slamming the spoon on the saucer.

"Shouldn't you be asking him this?" Elizabeth found it increasingly difficult to decipher Rose's unexpectedly proprietary manner towards Mr. Mark, when previously she almost tried to pair him up with her. Suddenly Elizabeth grasped the whole of the situation, after all Mr. Mark and Rose did spend all of the day before yesterday and a good part of the night together. Maybe Rose had at last gotten over her silly infatuation with Mr. Darcy and started to see Mr. Mark in a new light, and that is where this odd argument was stemming from. Elizabeth felt a giggle bubbling up in her throat but stifled it for the time being. "Besides," she asked slyly, "what does it matter to you whether I flirt with Mr. Mark or not? I thought you wanted me to get better acquainted with him."

"I did but…I do not know, Lizzy," Rose looked so miserable that Elizabeth quickly gave up any idea of teasing her.

"What happened at the beach, Rose?" She asked looking intently at her distraught friend, "and before you answer me, you may be sure that neither I nor Mr. Mark harbour any tender feelings for each other." Rose nodded and took a deep breath before continuing.

"You must have observed how Mr. Mark did not leave me alone for even a moment, all through Wednesday," she said blushing a little.

"Indeed," Elizabeth nodded eagerly, "I could not talk to you for even a minute straight before he would come and carry you off on the pretext of one thing or another."

"Yes well," Rose blushed some more and tried to hide it behind her teacup as she sipped her tea, "to cut a long story short Lizzy, it was as though he had planned the whole excursion only so he could show me, by his manner that…that…he is attached to me."

"And?" Elizabeth urged her on, pouring herself some tea after finishing her toast.

"And I do believe that he is," Rose's voice dipped and then arose again, "that walk that we had on the beach after Bella turned us all out of the house, oh Lizzy, it did strange things to me."

"It or **Mr. Mark?" **Elizabeth giggled as she teased her, and Rose immediately turned crimson.

"Indeed he did not," Rose cried in indignation, "he was a perfect gentleman."

"Of course," Elizabeth mocked after taking a sip from her cup, "now do go on."

"We talked about so many things, about first impressions and change of opinions, about the strange turns life often takes and stranger events that sometimes happen, about…"

"It all sounds quite philosophical for both you and Mr. Mark," Elizabeth cut her sentence short.

"It was too," she smiled, "but it made me see him in a different light Lizzy, and I quite liked what I saw. He is not all about teasing his sisters and running after game, there is a depth to him that I had not noticed before."

"What about Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked carefully now, draining her teacup.

"I do admire and respect him Lizzy," Rose immediately became serious as she pushed the cup and saucer away, "but fortunately my heart was not touched, or not too deeply at least. I see a lost cause when I see one, and the truth of the matter is that he probably never gave me a moment's thought."

"And so you have decided to settle for Mr. Mark instead?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, "Rose, you cannot compromise on a matter of heart. Indeed, I shall not let you."

"I have not gravitated towards Mr. Mark because I failed to attach Mr. Darcy," Rose replied calmly, "he just took me unawares by showing a side of himself that I had not perceived earlier. I am not trying to make a prudent match like Charlotte, Lizzy, but nor am I going to wait for a magical romance like Jane's. And who knows, if anything might come of it or not. I am no more in love with Mr. Mark than I was with Mr. Darcy."

"You did seem quite put out at Mr. Mark paying more attention to me than he did you," Elizabeth wagged her eyebrows playfully, "but you have never done this in the case of Mr. Darcy."

"But then Mr. Darcy never pays attention to anybody, now does he?" Rose replied laughing but Elizabeth merely smiled, followed by a frown, confused as to whether she had exaggerated Mr. Darcy paying at least some attention to herself or imagined it.

"Does Mr. Mark know that you have had a change of heart?" Elizabeth continued in the same vein, ignoring the small diversion from one cousin to the other in conversation.

"Of course not, Lizzy," Rose replied reddening again, "more so since I did not have any, my heart is untouched still."

"If you say so," Elizabeth dimpled as Rose rolled her eyes.

By the time both the friends had thoroughly exhausted the topic of what Mr. Mark felt for Rose and vice versa, the clock promptly struck eleven. Elizabeth felt guilt and regret at not being able to keep her rendezvous with Mr. Darcy. She left Rose with her mother and went outside to the swing and sat morosely on it.

She could scarcely believe she had forgotten that Mr. Darcy had asked her to meet him in the woods that day when it was all she could think of since yesterday, well that and every other thing about him. Try as she might, she could not stop her mind from wandering off towards him, even when he was not a subject of discussion among herself and Rose, he was still present at the back of her mind.

Another round of napping was indulged in, since everyone was still quite tired from their exertions at the beach. Elizabeth who could never sleep in the afternoon, went to the Sleighton Manor's library. Though the house was quite similar in basics to Netherfield Park, the two houses still had a lot of differences and one of these were the libraries. Sleighton's library, though not as amply filled up with literary excellence as was the library back home, it still boasted of quite a good collection, considering that the current owners had only been here for three or so years.

Elizabeth took up a book and sat by the window to peruse it, but having quite given up reading on the doctor's orders after her accident, she found it difficult to concentrate. Or, at least that was what she told herself, for in reality the reason for her lack of interest was entirely different. So it was that she roamed around the shelves, trying to select a book that would hold her attention, but alas it was not to be.

As soon as the clock struck three, Elizabeth fetched her bolero and her reticule, forgetting her bonnet in her haste and went out to the woods after informing the maid of her whereabouts, in case anyone asked. She reached the tall pines, her heart beating erratically in anticipation and started looking among the trees for Mr. Darcy. She looked and she looked but he was not to be found. Dejected, she kept on wandering aimlessly in the woods, her thoughts jumping from one thing to another, all somehow connected to him.

She wondered if he would have waited for her in the morning, feeling restless and agitated like her. If only Rose had not needed to express so much about Mr. Mark, she could have gotten away sooner, but Rose needed her and Elizabeth was not one to back out on a friend in the time of need. _'But Mr. Darcy needed me too,' _she argued and then came to an abrupt halt in front of a tree. She could not believe what she had been thinking, her cheeks went crimson. Why on Earth would Mr. Darcy need her, what was she to him? Indeed the only reason he had wanted a conference with her was to clarify his name against Mr. Wickham's allegations, it was not as though he had an ulterior motive for asking her to meet with him in the woods.

She started walking again, a little more briskly, as moments from their time together at the beach took life in her mind. She smiled when she remembered how they had argued on what she was thinking, and blushed when she remembered how he had sat at her feet and looked up at her with his blue eyes glittering with an unnamed emotion. She had wanted to slip off the rock and sit with him on the sand, and keep sitting there, keep listening to his deep voice rising and falling.

She sighed and started to walk back towards the house as the light began to fade and the birds began to fly off to their nests. Mr. Darcy had told her that they had, in the time that she had forgotten, talked about forgiving and forgetting everything that passed between them at the Parsonage. She frowned as she contemplated what this piece of information meant about her past. She had been in Torquay for more than a fortnight now and had met Mr. Darcy pretty frequently during this time, and sometimes, if not often, they had managed to converse together as well. This had ultimately led them to be at ease in each other's company and finally, at the beach, she had been able to ask him about Jane and he had been able to ask her to give him a chance to elucidate his dealings with Mr. Wickham. But try as she might, she could not devise how she and Mr. Darcy could have gotten comfortable enough with each other to have had a similar conversation **in the past.**

She thought about the dream she had once had about someone trying to apologize to her about something as she climbed the ascent to Sleighton Manor. _'Could it be Mr. Darcy?' _she questioned herself again, but could not find a definite answer. Elizabeth increased her speed and soon she was within the gates of the Trent's home.

Elizabeth entered the house in great agitation, and was immediately met by Rose who told her that Mr. Mark and Mr. Darcy had come to visit and stayed for quite a long time before taking their leave. Her disappointment at hearing this was acute. She felt wretched now at going out for a walk in the evening and was determining to be in the woods by nine o' clock the next morning when Rose told her that the gentlemen were to go fishing tomorrow morning and would set out quite early so they could be back before lunch. Elizabeth's frustration had now reached new heights. It seemed that the more she wanted to see Mr. Darcy, the further away he went. She did find her sudden desire to be near him somewhat disconcerting but decided not to dwell too much on it.

"Have you seen the Brookridge Hall library?' Elizabeth asked Rose as they sat in the parlour near the fire while Mrs. Trent embroidered.

"Of course," Rose replied, "the Collier's collection is marvelous, to be sure."

"Indeed," Elizabeth said eagerly, a detailed tour of a library would be just the thing to distract her from thinking too much about a certain gentleman, "do you suppose they would mind very much if I were to see it?"

"I do not think so," Rose said firmly, "they are very hospitable people, Lizzy, as you might have assumed from their general manner."

"Of course," Elizabeth agreed wholeheartedly, "so when should we apply for a tour of it, do you think?"

"When do you want to?" Rose smiled at her eagerness, but Elizabeth's love for the books was nothing new to her.

"Tomorrow?" Elizabeth suggested, "for the gentlemen shall be out fishing and I would have the library to myself."

"Alright, then I shall send a message tomorrow morning and ask for a visit after luncheon," Rose agreed and the rest of the evening was spent in pleasant conversation between the friends.

The next day came and Rose and Elizabeth were greeted by Georgiana, Miss Collier and Miss Isabella. Georgiana had been at home all day while the Collier sisters had come back from Torquay with their mother just some minutes earlier, the gentlemen were still out fishing. Elizabeth felt content at the fact that there was a library where she could take pleasure in perusing the books.

"I understand that you have a great interest in books and reading Miss Bennet," Miss Collier smiled beautifully at her.

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled back, "I have inherited this love from my father."

"As have we all," she told her standing up, "come I shall show you our library. Would you like to come too Miss Trent?"

"Oh no," Rose replied, "I am perfectly comfortable here." She smiled at the two younger girls which Bella returned and to Elizabeth's curiosity Georgiana kept looking at her with a sly smile on her lips.

As they approached the library, a maid appeared with a letter on a silver tray.

"This just came for you Miss Collier," she held it out for her to take.

"Thank you Hannah," Miss Collier accepted the letter and looked at it indifferently till something caught her interest and her face suffused with colour.

"Miss Bennet, would you mind very much if I left you alone in the library for a little while," she asked modestly, her face glowing, "I do need to read this letter, most urgently."

"Of course Miss Collier," Elizabeth smiled at her, "in fact I would prefer it, for when in the company of books, I need no other."

"Oh thank you Miss Bennet," she beamed and pointed to a heavy looking door, "this is the back door to the library. I hope you find it up to your expectations."

"I am sure I shall," Elizabeth said and both women moved in opposite directions.

Elizabeth entered the Library, closing the door noiselessly behind her, and found that it was designed on the pattern of a public library, with shelf after shelf lined one after the other. She took quick steps towards the first shelf and noticed, immediately the works of Wordsworth. As she raised her hand to pick up a tome, she heard a door open at another end of the room and voices of a man and a woman.

"It was clever of you to sneak in without anyone knowing," it was Miss Irene's voice.

"What else could I do?" Elizabeth recognized Lt. Trent's voice immediately, "you were not talking to me ever since that silly argument we had at the beach."

Elizabeth felt uncomfortable. She did not know if she was in for another round of a lover's quarrel or a lover's…ahem…embrace. She was trying to decide whether she should make her presence known or quietly slip out of the room when something was said that caught her attention.

"And you think this is the right way to go about getting my attention?" Miss Irene asked playfully.

"I do not care," replied Lt. Trent adamantly, "I have a right to be with my fiancée."

_**'Make some excuse and come away…I do not care what…I have a right to be with my fiancée tonight…'**_

Elizabeth's mind reeled as odd snippets of a conversation floated through her brain. It was a man's voice again, and he called her, for she was pretty sure that the man was talking to her, **his fiancée. **She could not believe it to be true, but what else could it possibly mean.

Soon she could hear more noises but not voices. It was clear that Miss Irene was being subjected to some ardent display of love. Elizabeth's cheeks heated up as her mind went numb with more visions. She blindly made her way through the shelves in search of some place to sit down, as the room began to grow dark around her.

"James, stop," she heard Miss Irene say.

"I cannot," the Lieutenant answered, "you are too tempting."

And that was when the voices in Elizabeth's head took over any other sound that might exist in the room in that moment. She clutched firmly at a shelf to make her stop from falling as the voices of reality slowly faded away into nothingness and a door opened and closed somewhere.

_**'…I thought it was my not so tempting looks…' it was her own voice **_

She felt herself being pushed against a shelf, or maybe it was a wall, she could not be sure for the reality and the memories were slowly merging into one another.

_**'…you tempt me rather too much…,' said the man who dominated her dreams**_

"Miss Bennet," she could hear someone calling her from close by, but somehow his voice seemed too far away as the voice of another engulfed everything around her. Elizabeth's grip on the shelf tightened even further as she submerged deeper into the flashback she was in the midst of.

"Miss Bennet, are you dizzy? Are you alright?" Strong arms shook her lightly, forcing her to open her eyes just a little. And there he was, holding her close, so close.

"Mr. Darcy?" She whispered, before her eyes closed again, shutting him out and bringing someone else back, someone too dominant to be expelled from her dreams.

_**'…call me by my name…,' the deep voice demanded**_

"Miss Bennet, can you hear me?" Reality intruded again and Elizabeth tried to open her eyes but her lids were too heavy and the darkness around her too strong.

"Mr. Darcy," she said soundlessly. She wanted to see Mr. Darcy, to feel the comfort of being near him again but the other man was too insistent.

_**'…Say it again,' he demanded against her lips, 'I want to kiss you as you say my name…' And Elizabeth felt herself being swept up in a heady embrace as a contact, hot and resolute was made with her lips…**_

She wanted him to stop.

…_**she wanted him to go on forever…**_

If only she could regain some of her consciousness.

_**...if only she could continue in this sweet oblivion…**_

She felt choked with helplessness.

_**...her knees felt week with exhilaration…**_

"S-stop," she cried at last as she sagged heavily against the shelf, or was it Mr. Darcy?

_**'…s-stop…' her own voice mimicked her, '…or I shall faint…'**_

Elizabeth felt herself slowly being picked up into strong arms and carried away somewhere, she could not be certain if it was a memory or if somebody was actually holding her, so she made a phenomenal effort and opened her eyes, only to find Mr. Darcy's blue eyes fastened on her face in worry.

"W-what are you doing?" She asked haltingly, surely it was not proper for him to carry her in his arms like this.

"You lost consciousness, Miss…" his words faded away yet again as other words penetrated her hearing.

_**'…would you like some wine?'**_

She shook her head and found herself atop a couch with Mr. Darcy holding a glass of wine to her. Elizabeth blinked, her thoughts were all in a jumble by now, she could not determine where reality began and memory ended. Was it Mr. Darcy who offered her wine or **the other man?** She felt drained, with no strength left to raise her hand for the glass. She wished Mr. Darcy would just sit down with her and put the glass to her lips so she could drink the sparkling liquid and feel energized again.

_**'… sit with me please…I want to be close to you…' it was her voice, unmistakably her own**_

Elizabeth gasped and stared at Mr. Darcy's changing expression and darkening eyes. She could not be sure if she had said it out loud, for though it certainly was her own voice, she could not establish if she had said it now or in the past. And suddenly Mr. Darcy sat next to her as he held the glass to her lips quietly urging her to drink. She took a sip or two before she started to slip into oblivion once again.

"I cannot believe how weak I feel," she mumbled absently when Mr. Darcy slowly moved his hands through her hair as her head came to rest on his chest.

_**'…I still cannot believe you fell in love with me…' the deep voice, now distant, said from far away**_

"It is because you were having a flashback, I suppose," said Mr. Darcy soothingly, his voice sounding surprisingly similar to the voice in her memories and dreams. She nodded briefly, dropping in and out of reality. "Would you tell me about it?" He asked softly, and she felt a soft pressure on her head, _'a kiss maybe,' _she wondered vaguely as her own voice demanded her attention.

_**'… from the day I read your letter…I just could not stop thinking about you…'**_

"The letter," she quickly sat up, breaking out of his hold, "it was the letter."

"The letter, Miss Bennet?" Mr. Darcy asked from beside her. She slowly turned towards him and suddenly became very aware of his nearness. Her eyes dropped down to her lap as she gently massaged her temple with her fingers. Mr. Darcy must have sensed some change in her manner, for he quickly got up from his perch and stood tall before her.

"Is there anything you need Miss Bennet?" He asked her politely, "or someone I should call?"

"Rose," Elizabeth looked up at him and her head swam a little, "I want Miss Trent."

Darcy nodded and quickly left the room, without once looking back at her. The truth was that Elizabeth had wanted him to keep holding her, to keep moving his fingers through her hair, to keep dropping feather light kisses on her head. But there was another truth as well, she could not be sure if it was Mr. Darcy who had done all that or was it** just a memory **come to haunt her.

"Lizzy what is the matter?" Rose entered soon afterwards, with Mr. Mark and Mrs. Collier right behind her.

"Oh Rose it was dreadful," Elizabeth cried at the sight of her friend, but immediately fell silent as she realized that she had not come alone.

"Was it another…," Rose started to ask after taking the seat previously occupied by Mr. Darcy but left the sentence unfinished and looked meaningfully at her. Elizabeth gave the slightest nod of her head.

"Do you need anything child?" Mrs. Collier stepped closer and asked her gently.

"I thank you madam," Elizabeth tried to make a feeble attempt at smiling and was again struck by how different she was from Mr. Darcy's other Aunt, "but if you could arrange for a carriage, as I should very much like to go home now."

"Of course," said Mr. Mark, already moving towards the door, "I shall call for it right away."

"Would you rather sit here or come outside, Lizzy, while we wait for the carriage?" Rose asked her.

"Some fresh air would be beneficial for you Miss Bennet," Mrs. Collier suggested and Elizabeth agreed. The three of them slowly proceeded towards Brookridge's grounds and took their seats with Miss Isabella and Georgiana who were already assembled there.

"Elizabeth," Georgiana sat up and looked worriedly at her, "William just told us that you had a dizzy spell again. Are you feeling better now?"

"Indeed I am," Elizabeth smiled feebly at her.

"Was it very strong?" Rose asked her.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and opened them looking far away towards where Mr. Darcy was hunched in front of an enormous dog of some unknown breed. His hand slowly raked through the dog's fur. She turned her head back towards the company and found Mrs. Collier's gaze fixed on her rather piercingly.

"Very strong," she sighed, not wanting to remember the intensity of the flashback, "the strongest I have had so far, and the longest."

"Do not think about it darling," Rose patted her shoulder, "or you shall get a headache."

"What was it about?" Miss Isabella asked curiously, "was it about that man in your past?"

"Isabella," Mrs. Collier's loud voice whipped at her nerves, "go to your room right now and stay inside until you are told otherwise." Her tone held finality, quite similar to that of her nephew and everyone had the satisfaction of seeing Miss Isabella sufficiently cowered. She got up immediately and was about to tell her cousin to come with her, when her mother spoke again.

"Georgiana shall not go anywhere." Elizabeth thought that her tone might have scared even Lydia as the young girl meekly proceeded towards the front door.

Some minutes passed in silence until the carriage was ready for them to leave in. Mrs. Collier and Georgiana stood with them as Mr. Mark handed them both into the carriage, holding Rose's hand for longer than necessary. As the carriage rolled by, Elizabeth's eyes again fell on Mr. Darcy and the large animal by his side. Mr. Darcy was now standing and the dog was moving around him in circles, he had not tried to approach them as they sat in the vast lawn of Brookridge Hall, nor had he came forward to bid them adieu or to help the ladies' into the carriage. _'He could have come to ask how I was now,' _Elizabeth thought resentfully as she gazed at his broad back, resolutely turned towards them until the carriage exited the gate.

Once at Sleighton Manor, Elizabeth begged to be excused for the night after an early dinner. Mrs. Trent offered to call for some laudanum, in order to help her sleep but Elizabeth refused politely. Rose followed her to her room after changing for the night.

"Now tell me Lizzy," she asked as they both lay in bed, under the covers, "what happened to you in the library?"

"It was…it was the…" Elizabeth floundered for a suitable word for the strange experience she had just had, "Oh Rose it was the single most bizarre experience of my life."

"Would you like to talk to me about it?" Rose asked gently, taking her hand in hers, reminding her of Jane. Elizabeth took a deep breath and nodded.

"Do you remember what I told you about a man who I tend to get…ahem…close to in my dreams?" Elizabeth asked a little hesitatingly.

"Is this about a kiss again?" Rose asked, her eyes twinkling, "do not tell me Lizzy that you were in such a state because some man kissed you in your dream?"

"It was not a dream, Rose," Elizabeth cried, "I was wide awake when it began, though I do admit to slipping in and out of consciousness during the whole time."

"So your memory was about a man kissing you?" Rose asked in a slightly playful tone.

"Yes," Elizabeth relaxed into the bed again, "but it was not just the kiss, what got me so agitated were the emotions that assaulted me throughout the experience. Every time I would come to my senses, I would want the experience to end, but as I slipped back into the memory, I would feel elated, perfectly comfortable with what was happening around me."

"Can you not forget about it, if it agitates you so?" Rose asked in concern now.

"I cannot," Elizabeth said resolutely, "for I think I might have gotten engaged to the man I hear in my dreams."

"Lizzy do be serious," Rose paled.

"I am," Elizabeth said adamantly, "he clearly called me his fiancée and when I think of the liberties I allow him in my dreams and memories, it seems highly probable that at some point in my past, I did get engaged."

"Lizzy you are scaring me now," Rose left Elizabeth's hand and folded her arms around her.

"If you are scared Rose," Elizabeth said gloomily, "imagine what my sentiments are right now."

"Rose," Elizabeth called her after none of them had spoken for sometime, "I think I would like to be alone tonight."

"Oh no Lizzy," Rose cried out in concern, "not tonight."

"Please Rose," Elizabeth insisted as she slipped down the covers and faced away from her, "just for tonight, to reconcile with what I have just found out." Rose stood staring at her for a few moments, and then exited the room quietly.

As the door shut behind Rose, Elizabeth closed her eyes, trying to relive the fantastic experience she had just had in the Colliers library, but it was not to be. Every time she tried to picture herself with the other mysterious figure from her dreams, Mr. Darcy's handsome countenance, as he stared down at her in worry, took over her reminiscence. She tried to remember what the man had said to her and all she could hear was Mr. Darcy's voice. She tried to imagine his embrace, but it was Mr. Darcy's strong hold that she felt around her.

Elizabeth shivered involuntarily and pulled the covers closer about her. She could not figure out if Mr. Darcy had really held her close to him, as his hands moved in her hair or if it was part of the vision. She felt perplexed when every which way she turned the memory, Mr. Darcy's blue eyes forced her to see him in it. She could not ascertain if Mr. Darcy had completely taken over her memory because he was there when she had the flashback or because her head was too full of him to think of any other man.

A sudden fear gnawed at Elizabeth's heart as she turned on her back and stared at the wooden ceiling of the room. She distinctly remembered the man calling her his fiancée in the memory, and her easy acceptance of his words. If she really was engaged to some gentleman, why did no one know about it? At least Jane must have known something, but she had not revealed any possibility of such an occurrence but Jane could have withheld this piece of information from her because the had told her not to give her any news that might shock her. True enough, if such a possibility was this much of a surprise to her now, how must she have felt the impact of it immediately after the accident.

But if she truly was engaged, where was her fiancé? Was it a secret engagement? Was he not coming forward because he did not want to shock her? But was he not taking a huge risk in staying away from her, for what if she fell in love with someone in his absence? _'Oh it was every way horrible,'_ Elizabeth thought as she turned on her other side. She did not know whether to believe the vision or not. Her mind told her that it was possible, but her heart kept arguing that it was unattached.

She frowned as her mind grasped on another detail that she had almost forgotten, the letter. Her first memory was about someone handing her a letter and in the last she had talked about one, not just talked about it, but admitted to **him **that it was a letter that laid the foundation of her love for him. Now what was in that letter and where was it?

Elizabeth sighed one last time and closed her eyes, ready to fall asleep. Even if there was such a man, she did not remember him. All she remembered were a few whispered words and some stolen kisses, and who knew if they were real or imagined. She cleared her mind of all thought as she drifted into slumber, but she could not block those blue eyes, she did not want to either.

_**She was in a beautiful room, decorated in shades of blue, held against a wall, being thoroughly kissed by none other than Mr. Darcy. And then he picked her up and laid her on a couch as he sat at her feet with his head in her lap and her fingers playing with his hair. As Elizabeth's hand traveled down his face he opened his piercing blue eyes and looked at her with utter devotion and…**_

Elizabeth woke up to the glorious feeling of being loved which soon changed into the apprehension of uncertainty. She did not know what had happened in her past and she was not sure of what was going to happen in the future, all she knew was that Mr. Darcy had started to dominate not only her every waking thought but also her every unconscious moment.

…**..**

The morning after their return from the beach, saw an excited Darcy out in the woods long before anyone else had even woken up at Brookridge Hall. Darcy had slept peacefully after a long time that night and was awake earlier than usual, ready to face another day where he would be able to bask in Elizabeth's invigorating company. He had been apprehensive before he asked her, obliquely, to meet him in the woods, but her answer had gone a long way in eliminating all his doubts.

He thought about their time together at the beach with growing satisfaction as he tied his horse to a nearby tree. Her manner had been so far removed from the resentment laden behaviour he had gotten used to after her accident. She had been open about indicating that she did not dislike him anymore, trusting him in the matter of Bingley and her sister, willingly spending time with him.

Darcy removed his top hat off his head and raked his fingers through his now slightly longer than usual hair. There was another matter that to him appeared rather encouraging; Elizabeth had started to recall at least some of her memories. He wondered if their carriage ride to the beach had somehow triggered her memory of a similar carriage ride from Lambton to Pemberley. He also wondered if he should have illuminated her about it when she asked him to. But the doctor had asked everyone related to her to be very careful when it came to revealing anything from her past for it would be all the more suitable if she figured everything out on her own.

Darcy walked deeper into the woods, after consulting his pocket watch, he had spent almost an hour riding before he came here, so it was almost nine o'clock now. He felt excitement building up inside him as his **entirely too long **legs carried him towards where Sleighton Manor could be seen from a distance. He imagined Elizabeth coming down the slope from Sleighton Manor, and his heart beat a little more quickly in anticipation.

It could not be longer now, his heart whispered. Elizabeth had started to warm up to him, she teased him but gave him smiles as well, she laughed at him but with him too, and she had started to look at him in a certain manner that reminded him of how she had been at Pemberley. _'Yes,' _he thought contentedly, _'it could not be long now.'_

But contrary to what Elizabeth implied, though playfully, Darcy was known to have been wrong a few times in his life. So it was that he waited and waited, but the object of his desire did not appear in the line of his vision. Feeling all the more dejected for his hopes had ridden quite high that morning, he returned to Brookridge and took refuge in Georgiana's company.

He strived hard not to brood too much all day long until Mark suggested that they visit Sleighton Manor in the evening. With renewed hopes, he went there, and came back only with renewed disappointment. Elizabeth had been out for a walk, and did not return till their stay lasted. In no humour to be agreeable to anyone, Darcy retired early for the night, his hope to win Elizabeth's heart once again laid in tatters around him.

Mark had planned to go for fishing the next morning with Darcy and Lt. Trent, and so they set out early in order to be back early. The fishing expedition did not turn out to be much fruitful as there was not much fish to be had. They returned earlier than expected and found the house empty except for Georgiana. Darcy was still not feeling up to much conversation so he excused himself on the plea of going to the library and promptly went there after changing into fresh clothes.

It was there that he first heard Irene being subjected to some rather enthusiastic display of love by Lt. Trent. Darcy felt embarrassed and a little jealous as well. Just when he was thinking of how to extricate himself from the situation, he discovered that there was someone other than himself and the fiancés in the library.

He watched in extreme surprise and a little alarm as Elizabeth stumbled into his arms, clutching rather forcefully at him as a door opened and closed, indicating the exit of Irene and the Lieutenant. Elizabeth meanwhile looked almost delirious with eyes shut tightly.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy folded his arms around her as he called her name repeatedly until she opened her eyes and looked at him as if from afar.

"Mr. Darcy?" She questioned before closing her eyes again and gripping him even more forcefully.

"Miss Bennet can you hear me?" He patted her cheek to bring her to, but she only said his name again without opening her eyes. Darcy stared helplessly at her as her pale countenance suddenly blushed and her breath came out in gasps. Darcy began to panic, _'was she having a seizure?' _He thought anxiously.

"S-stop," she murmured breathlessly and Darcy instinctively knew that she was in the middle of a flashback. He picked her up, quite easily, for she was light of weight and started moving towards the couch on the other side of the library.

"W-what are you doing?" She momentarily came to but drifted off once again as Darcy tried to tell her that she had lost consciousness. He placed her gently on the couch and fetched her a glass of wine.

"Have some wine, Miss Bennet," he called her again, hoping that she would regain her consciousness long enough to drink some of the wine. It seemed as though Elizabeth roused herself with some difficulty from her stupor, but then she just stared at him, unable to move. Darcy felt a little uneasy at her state of mind, but knew that she will recover once the flashback passed, though it did seem an awfully long one this time.

"Sit with me please," she whispered, "I want to be close to you."

Darcy stared at her, dumbfounded. He could not believe what he had just heard, she was obviously not in her senses. He slowly sat down besides her as he held the glass to her lips, she drank drowsily and then again started to move back into unconsciousness. Darcy quickly placed the glass on the table as Elizabeth's head came to rest on his chest.

He was suddenly struck by the similarity between what was happening today and what had happened on that beautiful night in August at Pemberley's library. He recognized now that it was that time Elizabeth was remembering as she had asked him to sit with her in the same words on that night as well. It was with a rapid rush of emotions that his hand reached out to smooth her hair as he dropped soft kisses on her head. Elizabeth's vertigos had stopped or at least were not as intense as they had been immediately after the accident, therefore her reaction today seemed somewhat more severe than what it should have been. But Darcy could discern the reason for such a strong effect of this particular memory on her, it was because the memory itself was particularly intense. Every time he thought of it, and it was fair to assume that it happened often, he felt desire surging through him in waves of uncontrollable passion, and he had not even lost his memory. He was almost reluctant to think of the impact of such recollections on Elizabeth.

Elizabeth mumbled something about being weak and Darcy squeezed her a little more to him, as his fingers continued on their silken path. He kissed her head once again for he could not deny himself this small pleasure. Her fragrance was making him oblivious to his surroundings, the feel of her soft body folded within his arms was stirring the wild passion he felt for this woman. He was contemplating the pleasure that dropping kisses all over her face would bring him, when she suddenly jumped, breaking his embrace.

"The letter," she said eagerly, "it was the letter."

Darcy looked at her as if from far away. _'What letter is she talking about now?' _he thought. He wanted to pull her back into his embrace and keep her there for the rest of their lives, but he found her looking guardedly at him, probably thinking it inappropriate for him to be so close to her, which was an indication that she was in full command of her faculties once again. Darcy sighed and stood up as she looked rather forlornly at him. She told him to inform Miss Trent about her condition and so he did and then went to where the Collier's big bitch, Andromeda, was laying.

She had given birth to three pups recently, one of which got so attached to Darcy that Irene, to whom Andromeda belonged gave it to him willingly. Darcy sat down to pet her, wondering where the pups were but his mind soon went to Elizabeth in the library. _'If she was remembering their time together in the secret chamber within the Pemberley library, would she not also remember that it was him, Darcy, with her?' _ But he rejected that hypothesis, she had had multiple flashbacks by now, some, he was sure, specifically about him, but still she had not remembered that he was an important part of her past.

He did not know for how long he played with Andromeda, when he was called from behind by Georgiana.

"They have gone William," she told him when he turned around.

"Miss Bennet?" He asked and Georgiana nodded. "How was she?" He asked again, thinking of how her complexion became pale at first and then flushed.

"She seemed quite effected by the whole experience," Georgiana told him, "she also said that it was the strongest and longest flashback that she had ever had."

"Did she?" He raised an eyebrow, "I hope she recovers soon from it."

"I hope it would help her remember," Georgiana said optimistically.

Darcy smiled gently at her and offered her his arm as they both walked towards the orchard at the back of the house, with Andromeda following close behind

Darcy did not stop going to the woods, after that day. Everyday he went there in the hopes of meeting Elizabeth and everyday he came back with dashed hopes and a heart from which broken pieces kept chipping off. He often took the little pup with him as it rested in his pocket, Darcy did not feel too alone with it there.

It was a cloudy morning one day that Darcy again went to the woods after riding Hermes for a long time. He tied the horse to a tree and went to stand by a broken fence a little farther away from the trees. This point gave a beautiful view of the cliffs, and he liked to stare at them as he thought things out. He sat atop it and brought out a paper from the inner pocket of his coat. It was Elizabeth's letter, so much read that the paper was already thinning.

"Mr. Darcy," a soft small voice called him from behind and he stiffened, _'Elizabeth?' _He asked himself in incredulity as he had, by now, given up all hope of her coming to meet him, or coming at all for that matter, to the woods. He placed the letter back in the inner pocket of his coat, turned around and saw her standing a few steps away, a little hesitantly, as if unsure of her welcome. In one fluid movement, he came down from the fence and bowed.

"Miss Bennet," he said in as calm a voice as he could manage for seeing her after four days had affected him more than he would like to admit.

"I hope I am not intruding," she said somewhat shyly and Darcy almost laughed out, almost. _'Intruding?' _He thought in amusement, _'how could someone who lives in your heart and breathes in your soul intrude upon your time?' _Indeed she was no more intruding than she was professing ardent love for him.

"No, Indeed," he said sincerely, "you can never intrude upon anything even remotely related to me."

"I thank you, Mr. Darcy," she blushed prettily and smiled at him. He felt his heart momentarily jump before settling into its normal rhythm.

"I thought you came here everyday," he had not meant to bemoan her absence, but the words went tumbling out before he could stop them. Feeling slightly embarrassed, he shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"I do," she looked earnestly at him.

"As do I," Darcy frowned, "but I have not seen you hereabouts before."

"I have not been sleeping well after…," she faltered and averted her eyes before continuing, "after that day, in the library. Consequently, I have not been able to wake up as early as I used to and you had either departed or were riding away as I entered the woods. I saw you twice." She looked up at the end of the sentence and Darcy thought that she looked somewhat agitated.

"I have been coming here ever since we came back from the beach," he told her in a lighter tone gesturing towards the fence for her to move towards, "you, madam, are a very difficult lady to track."

"Am I," she immediately perked up, "I could say the same about you, but then you are not a lady," she teased and Darcy felt relaxed, _'so she has been looking for me too,' _he thought happily.

"Were you looking for me, then?" He asked raising an eyebrow as they approached the fence.

"You did promise me something," she looked seriously towards him and then placing one foot on the lower post of the fence, swung around and was perched atop the fence within a moment. Darcy looked appreciatively at her, though he would have liked to pick her up by her waist and place her there himself.

"And so I did," he bowed his head and then raised it to look directly into her eyes, "if I am not mistaken, you want to know about my dealings with Mr. Wickham?" She nodded and Darcy took a deep breath before starting the narration. "Mr. Wickham is the son of my father's now deceased steward who was an excellent man," Darcy started and then stopped to move towards the fence, staring at the cliffs beyond.

"We grew up together. My father always treated him as his own, he was a great favourite with him. As we grew up, I found certain aspects of his character, rather disturbing. Forgive me Miss Bennet," he turned towards Elizabeth whose dark eyes were fixed on him in earnest, "but they are not fit for a lady's ears. I should just add that with the passage of time, Wickham became an irredeemable gamester and a womanizer, who spent more money than he should have, thus accumulating debts where ever he went."

"Did he not have any money to his name?" Elizabeth asked.

"None besides what my father bequeathed him in his will," Darcy replied firmly, "which was in his possession at the earliest possible date after my father's death."

"And the living," she asked again, her face bearing the marks of utter surprise.

"The living of Kympton was to be his according to my father's will," Darcy stared ahead again, "but immediately after his death, Wickham asked to be exempted from that duty, claiming to be reimbursed with an equal amount of money instead." He heard Elizabeth gasp but did not turn towards her. "I would not deny that I was pleased to hear it, for that meant that I would be rid of him for good, but that is where I was mistaken. As soon as Wickham had gone through that money, he once again came to me asking for the living to be given to him as if nothing had happened," Darcy fumed at the remembrance once again, even after so many years the thought of that day still riled him.

"So you refused him?" Elizabeth asked him, looking slightly dazed. Darcy nodded.

"After that I again thought I would be rid of him, but alas once again, that was not to be," he sighed, "last year, in the summer…he…he imposed himself, I know not in what manner," Darcy breathed deeply and placed his hands on the fence, clutching it till his knuckles were white, "on my sister, Georgiana." In a breath, Elizabeth was down from her post on the fence, and standing next to him.

"Mr. Darcy, please," she said in a voice that sounded shaken to his ears, "you do not have to relate anything more to me."

"There is not much left to the tale now Miss Bennet," he said morosely, "you might as well hear everything."

"Only if you think it necessary," she placed her hands on the fence next to his, staring far away.

"I do," he said firmly, "Georgiana was only fifteen then, and he somehow convinced her that they should elope." He heard Elizabeth's sharp intake of breath but went on regardless, "but a surprise visit by me upset his plans and saved Georgiana from his blatant fortune hunting." He turned towards her to find her hand pressed firmly to her lips.

"Miss Bennet, I…," but she did not let him go on.

"Oh poor poor Georgiana," she cried, "how did she cope with this?"

"She managed somehow," he said turning away again, "she is much recovered now."

"Mr. Darcy I cannot tell you how sorry I am for my false prejudice against you based on Mr. Wickham's account," she turned towards him, her face bespoke regret and remorse.

"Do you believe me then?" He asked, his eyes shining with contentment.

"Of course I believe you," she replied firmly.

"Then let us forget we ever had this conversation," he requested, "I never want to discuss him again."

"It is difficult to forget what you have just imparted to me, but I shall try," she looked at him with a soft expression lighting up her face.

They continued together in silence for some minutes after that. Darcy's mind tried to drift towards Wickham and his treacheries, but he curbed that thought, letting it wander towards the infinitely more preferable Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She was here, she had looked for him, she had listened to him and she had believed him. All his disappointments of the past few days melted away so fast, it was as though he never was disappointed at all. Her presence here in the woods at that moment was proof of something growing between them, slowly but steadily. He turned slightly towards her and saw her staring ahead as if in deep thought.

"Miss Bennet," he called her attention, "when we first met today, you said that you have not been sleeping well lately. May I ask the reason for your wakefulness?" He saw her pale immediately and felt a moment's panic, but then she turned towards him and gave him a somewhat weak smile.

"I do not know how to explain what ails me to anyone," her face fell for a moment before she regained her composure and looked at him gravely, "I tried confiding in my friend, but even she does not understand the severity of what I am feeling, Mr. Darcy."

"What is it Miss Bennet," Darcy looked at her in apprehension as he took a step closer to her, "what is so severe that you are losing sleep over it?" Her countenance paled even further as Darcy realized that she could not possibly be comfortable with sharing her innermost thoughts and fears with him, yet, but Elizabeth's reply surprised him.

"My memories," she said in a quiet voice.

"Your memories?" Darcy heart dropped as he realized that Elizabeth did not like what she saw of her past. "Are they, unsettling in some way?" He asked guardedly.

"It does not matter Mr. Darcy," she turned away, "you would not understand."

"On the contrary, Miss Bennet," he blurted out without thinking, "I think that I shall understand perfectly."

Elizabeth looked archly at him, as if challenging him to prove his words and he quickly realized his mistake. Like a fool, he had almost admitted to her that he knew about the happenings in her past and now he did not know how to explain himself.

"What I mean is, that," he cleared his throat while Elizabeth looked at him in amusement, "I am very understanding when it comes to…comes to…," he floundered off. _'Damn,' _he cursed, _'just when everything was going perfectly.'_

"When it comes to rescuing ladies who have just lost their memories?" she teased, her eyes dancing with mirth.

"Not all ladies," he said meaningfully and some of the colour returned to Elizabeth's cheeks, "tell me Miss Bennet, maybe I can help." He wanted so desperately to know what she had remembered and to reassure her that it was nothing to get disconcerted about.

"I…Mr. Darcy…I…," she started to say something but stopped after stammering a little, and Darcy found his name trapped between two 'I's coming out of Elizabeth's lips strangely arousing. "You are aware, I suppose, that my lost memories have started to come back to me little by little and…," here she faltered again and then went quiet.

He eyed her small white hand and slender tapering fingers with some nervousness, what will happen if he touched it, captured it in his own and held it till Elizabeth found enough courage to divulge her apprehensions regarding the memories? Will she pull it back and become the Elizabeth of days past, who despised him for his presumptuous attitude? Or will she allow the touch and relax in its intimacy, forgetting her trepidation, taking heart from his strength? There was only one way to know, and Darcy wanted to know rather urgently. As they stood face to face, their hands laid within inches of each other on the fence, Darcy moved his large hand and covered hers with it, without removing his eyes from her face once. For a moment her pupils dilated, but then she closed her eyes, opened them a moment later and looked at him with her decision written plainly on her face.

"I keep having vague flashbacks about the past, or what seems like it," she began in a steadier tone, "I hear voices, feel things but I can never see the faces of anyone in these…visions."

"And that perplexes you?" He asked taking her hand in his now.

"No," she denied but then amended her statement, "or maybe yes but that is not all that bothers me. It is as though, I have lived a life, that seems wholly impossible to have occurred," she said in exasperation, her brown eyes loaded with questions.

"How do you mean?" Darcy asked, intrigued.

"There is…ahem…err…well…um…," she hesitated and stopped again. Darcy now took a step closer to her, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand soothingly.

"Do you not trust me Miss Bennet?" He asked with so much feeling that she quickly looked up from their hands to him, her dark eyes mirrored the turmoil of his blue ones.

"I do, Mr. Darcy," she cried, unconsciously coming closer to him, "I do trust you, absolutely and unquestionably."

Darcy felt choked with emotion, she had never said that before, not even at Pemberley where both of them had professed true devotion and ardent love for each other and not even in the clearing near Longbourn where they had made plans for the future. And yet here she was, confessing that she had faith in him, utter and complete. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity when something stirred in his pocket and Elizabeth first jumped and then squealed. Darcy, too entranced to realize what was happening, almost jumped when he heard a 'wuf' coming from somewhere below.

"What have you been hiding in your pocket Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth giggled as she took the small puppy out of his pocket and cradled it in her arms.

"Oh, that," Darcy quite hated the sight of the little pup in that moment, who was yelping delightfully as Elizabeth petted it.

"Aren't you the most adorable little thing that ever was," she cooed and Darcy rolled his eyes before smiling at the picture she presented with the puppy.

"What do you call it?" She looked up at him, with sparkling eyes.

"I have not named it yet," he confessed a little sheepishly.

"And yet you carry it around in your pocket?" She teased.

"Never leaves me alone, the little rogue," Darcy's eyes twinkled.

"May I name it?" Elizabeth asked with childish enthusiasm.

"Of course, Miss Bennet," he agreed readily, thinking it an excellent idea.

"Umm, we shall call it Sir Wuf," she said with mock seriousness and Darcy just could not stifle the chuckle that bubbled inside his throat and spilled out uncontrollably. Elizabeth stared at him in mock indignation for a moment before joining in.

Darcy offered her his arm and she took it after setting Sir Wuf on the ground, who promptly started circling Darcy much in the same manner as his mother. Darcy and Elizabeth walked on, talking about something and nothing, leaving the worrisome topic of the memories behind, treading on much lighter subjects, developing an understanding of each other's character and disposition, once again.

**Next Chapter: An Arrow through her Heart**


	33. Chapter 33

**Memory Reference: Chapter 17; the scene where Georgiana sketches Darcy in the clearing among the woods. ****Elizabeth****'s POV (though it's very brief and kind of unimportant so if you want to skip reading chapter 17, you have my permission :P) **

**Chapter 33: An Arrow through her Heart**

Even though they never formally agreed to but Darcy started meeting Elizabeth in the woods every day, it was as though they had made a silent pact. Sometimes he would reach there first and wait for her to come and some times he would arrive to find her roaming among the trees or sitting atop the broken fence, waiting for him. Those days when she was there before him were the finest, for having Elizabeth wait for him, was next only to have her profess undying love for him.

He had found out plenty of heretofore undiscovered aspects of her personality in those few days and imparted a lot about himself also. He found out that Elizabeth was a very inquisitive person. She wanted to know every single detail about anything that took her fancy, and nowadays, he flattered himself, it was him. He found himself sharing details about himself and his family that he had not told anyone before, and though Elizabeth was undoubtedly an expert at conversing, she was also quite an attentive listener, though not a quiet one, for she asked innumerable questions whenever Darcy narrated something that interested her.

"But if Mrs. Collier was so fond of him, why did she not accept his hand in marriage?" She asked him incredulously one day, as they approached the end of the small wooded area and proceeded further down the slope.

"I believe the topic under discussion was that of prudent marriages," he said in exasperation as he cursed himself on ever bringing up the example of his Aunt, "not the inner workings of a woman's heart."

"You have to tell me, Mr. Darcy," she looked up with beseeching eyes and then batted her lashes quite in the manner of her youngest sister, "I absolutely insist."

"I do not know, Miss Bennet," he tried to dissuade her, along with his heart that simply could not resist her eyes especially under lashes that batted so delightfully, "I was not born then."

"Was your Uncle much distressed by her refusal?" she took another line of questioning.

"Still not born, Miss Bennet," he replied dryly.

"Oh you are just impossible to talk to Mr. Darcy," she huffed and removed her hand from his arm, folded hers on her chest and turned away. She looked so adorable in that instant that Darcy could not help but think, _'and you are just impossible not to kiss.'_

"You had better get used to it," he said looking meaningfully at her and his heart skipped a beat as he watched colour creeping up her cheeks. _'Yes,' _he thought again, _'it is not long now.' _Distraught with misery and prostrate with grief though he was at Elizabeth not remembering their past, he could not help but take pleasure in their daily meetings. He had at last found out the right way to court a lady, and was doing rather well, considering his almost nonexistent experience heretofore. Elizabeth brought out the slightly playful, if still dry wit in him, that apparently she liked as well.

"I shall do no such thing," she looked sternly at him after her blush had subsided, and turned around to go back, "and we had better return now, the hour gets late."

He agreed and they returned, Sir Wuf yelping delightfully on their way back. Elizabeth bade Sir Wuf a very loving good bye, looked coldly at Darcy and then started walking towards Sleighton Manor. Darcy also wanted to start on his way back to Brookridge, but could not bring himself to move without being assured that Elizabeth was not truly angry at him. Half way up the climb she turned around and raised her hand in farewell, at such a distance, Darcy could not be certain of her expressions, but they must be pleasant for she skipped up the rest of the way after Darcy touched his hat in salutation.

He walked back to his horse, picked up the little puppy, and spurred Hermes on back towards Brookridge. Life had suddenly become beautiful for Darcy once again, taking more meaning, having more purpose. And though he often communicated with his steward, rode out with Mark and Ilythia, and spent time with Izzie and Georgiana, it was Elizabeth who was at the back of his mind and the centre of his heart.

He was aware that she still dreamt about the past but he did not care much about her dreams, knowing that once she recalled that the man in her dreams was Darcy, her misgivings would all vanish. He had learnt how to deflect her from dwelling too much on them, she dearly loved to laugh and Darcy tried to be especially playful on days that she seemed vexed. He could never even dream of being so light of tone and pleasant of manner in front of anyone else, but it seemed natural to be that way with Elizabeth, her chuckles were his reward for exerting thus much on her behalf.

One day he woke up to go out on his customary ride before the walk with Elizabeth, but was informed that it was not a possibility, since there was going to be an impromptu archery competition at Brookridge Hall.

"Is there going to be just us," Darcy asked guardedly at breakfast, wanting to know if the Trents were invited, "or have you invited anyone else also?"

"I wanted to ask the Johnsons as well," Mark shrugged his shoulders, "but Bella hates the sight of the sons ever since the younger one was foolish enough to ask for her hand in marriage four years ago."

"She was only eleven," Ilythia said mildly, "whatever was he thinking?"

"Boys of fourteen hardly ever think," Irene said laughing.

"So it shall be just us and the Trents," Mark informed Darcy who sighed with relief, thinking of having another glorious day in Elizabeth's company.

When the three older Colliers and Darcy stepped out after breakfast they found, Georgiana and Bella moving excitedly among the footmen setting up the targets. Where Georgiana was enthusiastic about the idea of spending a wonderful day partaking in an activity that she had never indulged in before, Bella was positively overzealous about the competition since she had decided to win it at all costs.

Darcy smiled at Bella's restlessness and walked up to Georgiana, for Bella had not been talking to him since he had won that silly charade at the cottage.

"You seem quite animated about the idea," he smiled at her, "when you have never done anything of the sort before."

"And whose fault is that?" She looked archly at him and then smiled delightedly, "Oh but William, I am happy indeed. I shall draw you with the bow, I am quite determined."

"But would you not be indulging in the activity yourself?" He asked, a little surprised.

"Oh yes," she smiled at him, "but since I shall probably do very badly at it, therefore I would sit on the outskirts most of the time, making sketches of everyone," she informed him contentedly, Darcy smiled and soon they were joined by Mark and Ilythia who thought it only fair to have a practice session with the Trents since they possibly were not as proficient at the sport as themselves. The Colliers were all expert archers since a young age, for Zackary Collier had been the champion archer at Cambridge. Even Darcy had first learnt it here at Highcombe, and had gone on to practice and excel at it.

Darcy went away towards the back of the grounds to have the targets on which the teams were supposed to practice, erected. After a while he spotted Georgiana strolling towards him.

"William," she said in an distressed tone, "Mark says that we are to be split into teams. What if the team that I belong to loses because of me, for you know that I do not know the first thing about a bow and an arrow."

"Georgie, breathe," he smiled at her childish anxiety, "if there are to be teams, then you would surely be in mine and I never lose, as you well know," he said confidently.

"Truly William," her features relaxed with relief, "you would take me in your team?"

"Of course child," he comforted her, "who else could I choose?"

"I thought you would choose Elizabeth," she said haltingly.

"I might have," he teased her playfully, "if you were not being such a child about it. Now come," he gestured towards the targets, "let me show you how it is done."

After practicing for almost half an hour, they could hear an increase in voices from the other side of the house, which was an indication that the guests had arrived. Though Darcy had only seen Elizabeth the previous morning, it did feel as if it had been an age since his eyes had beheld her. He took a sharp breath in as his eyes rested on Elizabeth, who was standing with Ilythia, talking earnestly about something. She was all loveliness that day in a pale blue morning dress and a navy bolero. Darcy observed her with hooded eyes all the way through one corner of the house to the other.

"You would not forget your promise, William," Georgiana teased, "now that Elizabeth is here and is looking especially pretty as well."

"I might," he teased back, "after all she is looking especially pretty."

"William," she cried as they approached the party assembled there, "you are quite the Brutus, are you not?"

"Guilty," Darcy placed his hand on his heart and bowed a little, "very very guilty."

Everyone turned around, as Georgie squealed with laughter. There was only one pair of eyes that Darcy wanted to meet, so his blue eyes immediately took hold of the dark flashing ones. Elizabeth seemed miffed about something, and though she saved her sweetest smile for Georgiana, Darcy was only rewarded with a curt nod. He looked at her in confusion but she pulled Georgiana a little away and they both began talking among themselves.

"Let us start the day," Mark said loudly, "we shall be doing it in teams. Me, Darcy and Trent shall be the captains and each captain shall choose his teammates. All in agreement?" He asked and was met with a lot of ayes.

"I shall choose first, and then Trent," he said and then looked devilishly at his cousin, "Darcy shall choose last." Darcy bowed his head in acquiescence, knowing well what Mark's plan was.

"My first team member is Ilythia," Mark looked triumphantly around. Ilythia was an expert archer and even though Mark Collier felt deeply for Rosalind Trent, his love had not yet made him insensible to what victory tasted like.

"Mine is Irene," Lt. Trent said looking at his fiancée with love and rejoicing in the fact that his love also was a master archer.

"Georgiana," Darcy drawled and raised his hand towards his sister, who quickly placed her own in his, happy in the knowledge that no matter what happened, she would always have that special place in Darcy's life that no one else could.

"Miss Trent," Mark called out, love winning in the end.

"Bella," Lt. Trent was lucky enough to secure two wonderful players to his team.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy looked towards Elizabeth and his tone as well as his gaze challenged her to refuse coming to him. She held her head high and in a few steps approached the brother and sister.

"I am so glad that you are **ours** Elizabeth," Georgiana said pleasantly and then looked meaningfully at Darcy who had a pleasant sensation at the word _'ours.'_

"As am I," Elizabeth smiled and squeezed Georgiana's hand, "but I am afraid you shall lose because of me. I do not know anything about archery."

"Oh do not worry, neither do I, but," she assured Elizabeth, "William never loses."

"Does he not?" Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him.

"I try," Darcy drawled and arched one eyebrow at her in response.

"There will be a practice session before we start the actual game," Mark's voice broke the hold that each of them had on each other's eyes.

"We shall take the targets towards the back of the house," Darcy announced and gestured for his team to follow him.

"I have already practiced with William," Georgiana told Elizabeth, "would you mind if I went and brought my sketching supplies, while you two practice?"

"Of course not," Darcy was quick to answer before Elizabeth could try to stop Georgiana, "take your time," he told her pointedly and she skipped off. Darcy turned towards Elizabeth and wondered what could be bothering her.

"Shall we?" He asked her as he picked up the bow and arrow.

"I do not think I shall be able to learn archery in one day Mr. Darcy," she sounded a little annoyed.

"I did not take you for a defeatist, Miss Bennet," Darcy looked at her sideways and immediately her posture changed as her neck stiffened and she straightened her shoulders.

"Do you presume to understand me now Mr. Darcy?" She asked him as she narrowed her eyes and picked up the bow from the table.

"A little," he returned equally, "I can tell that you are angry at me about something."

"I am not," she denied but her heightened colour showed him that he was right, "why would I be?"

"That is what I would like to know very much," he looked intently into her eyes, her expressive eyes, and then bent a little towards her, his tone deepening somewhat, "but I would like it even more if you removed your bolero."

"Mr. Darcy," she cried in indignation, "how dare…" But Darcy did not let her finish whatever she was about to say.

"For the express purpose of practicing archery, Miss Bennet," he quickly pointed towards his bow before Elizabeth flew into a temper, "you would not be able to do it otherwise, the outer clothing would restrict the free movement of your arm, thereby obstructing your aim."

"You could have explained fully earlier, Mr. Darcy," she went crimson, "before I embarrassed myself."

"I would have if you had let me finish," he retorted, "now let us not argue anymore, and proceed with the practice. **Wordplay** is not going to help us win."

"**Nothing **is going to help us win," she turned her back to him as she unbuttoned her bolero and got out of it quickly placing it on a nearby table. Darcy averted his eyes as he removed his waistcoat and handed it to the footman, thoughts of undressing her were **also** not going to help them win, "I might not be a defeatist, but I am also not an archer." She said as she turned around and her eyes widened somewhat at the state of his undress.

"We all make our own choices," he shrugged his shoulders and moved closer to her, "and must learn to live with them."

"You did not choose me, Mr. Darcy," she said hotly and picked up her bow once again, "I was the only one left."

"That is true," he agreed readily and saw that she got riled some more, "but who is to say if I would not have chosen you even if there were a million expert archers?" He took an arrow and showed her how to insert it into the bow.

"Who indeed?" she mocked again and then mirrored his movements, showing him that she was quick to learn.

"You do not believe me?" He brought the bow close to his cheek giving her a signal to follow suit.

"In this?" She also brought the bow close to her cheek and pulled the string, took aim and let the string go, "no."

"It would be so much easier if you did," he said as he let go of his own.

Elizabeth's arrow fell half way between where they stood and the target, whereas Darcy's hit the bull's eye.

"Your aim is weak, as is your judgment," Darcy turned towards her and said unsympathetically.

"Your teaching skills are insincere, as are your promises," she replied hotly, taking Darcy by surprise, _'Which promises are those?' _he wondered.

"Stop bickering William and Elizabeth," Georgiana's soft voice suddenly arose from behind, startling them.

"He started it," Elizabeth complained as her eyes flashed in anger. Darcy opened his mouth to counter her accusations, but Georgiana did not let him finish.

"Why do you not show her how to do it as you taught me?" Georgiana asked him, changing the subject, "look, Mark is teaching Miss Trent in the same way."

Darcy's eyes moved towards the far end of the ground and suddenly he felt very hot. Mark almost had Miss Trent in an embrace as one of his hands held the bow and the other encircled her to hold the arrow as he stretched his hand along her cheek, _'touching it no doubt,_' thought Darcy, and allowed it to stagger away towards the target. He slowly turned towards Elizabeth whose eyes had gone round and whose cheeks seemed flushed.

"I am going to sit over there and do some sketching if the two of you do not mind and also promise not to argue anymore," Georgiana's eyes danced with mirth as she took in the flushed countenances of the man she loved more than anyone in the world and the woman who had become just as dear to her as him.

"Fine," they both said at the same time and Georgiana went away to sit under a tree and do some sketching.

"Here," he gestured for her to step in front of him, and said seriously, "let me show you the technique of how to use the bow and arrow to the best of your ability." She nodded and hesitantly stepped in front, her back to him. Darcy was in a dilemma, on one hand he wanted to show her how to become a good archer and stick to the norms of propriety, and on the other he wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and pour his heart out in her ears. He settled for the former as she was obviously not in the mood for the latter.

"Hold it upright," he held the bow firmly in front of her shoulder with the arrow fixed in it horizontally near her cheek, "you must point it towards the target. Just looking at the target with your eyes," **_your beautiful eyes, _**"is not going to make the arrow go off towards the target by itself. You shall have to apply both force and judgment in order to hit the bull's eye." She nodded again and Darcy could smell the lavender on her, _'oh Lord,' _he thought, _'what sweet hell is this?'_

"Miss Bennet," his voice became gentle as he lowered his head to her level, their cheeks quite close but not exactly touching, "do you understand me, now?"

"Yes," she answered simply but still made no move to take the bow and arrow into her hands.

"You shall have to take these in your own hands, in order to practice properly," his tone held amusement as he moved a little closer to her, his chest right behind her back, the heat seeping through the thin walls of their garments. Elizabeth moved her hand gingerly to take the bow, as soon as she gripped it, Darcy closed his hand on hers. He felt her stiffen momentarily as her breathing became laboured, he could not fault her for it as his own breath seemed to get caught somewhere in his chest. Moments passed but she did not bring her other hand to take the bow from his, so Darcy, now much recovered from her nearness, slowly took her hand in his and brought it to the arrow. This time Elizabeth did grip it tightly.

"Pull it back," he told her in a soft tone, "as farther away as you can." She pulled it back even further, her hand still caught in Darcy's.

"Remember Miss Bennet," he said reassuringly, "you must keep your eyes as well as the arrow pointed towards the target." She nodded, "you can let go now," he told her and she shot. The arrow flew into the air and hit the outer most circle on the target. Darcy smiled and picked up another arrow.

"Which promise did I not keep Miss Bennet?" He asked as he handed her the arrow and fixed her face with an intense gaze.

"Which do you think?" She replied his question with another one as she fixed the arrow into the bow.

"I cannot think of any," he said in exasperation, 'that is why I am asking you."

"Why did you not come to the woods in the morning?" She asked again as she turned towards the target, and just like that the mystery of her annoyed demeanor was solved. Darcy perked up immediately, thanking God that it was not another one of the memories but something that he could do away with in no time.

"Did you wait for me?" he asked as his arms went around her once again.

"That is not the answer to my question," Darcy saw her pouting as his face once again came close to hers.

"Nor is this to mine," he returned gripping her hands firmly as hers held the bow and the arrow.

"I shall have my answer first," she said adamantly as Darcy pulled the string farther.

"Of course Lady Catherine," he said playfully in her ear and she burst out into giggles, breaking his embrace and stepping away from him.

"Mr. Darcy you must never call me that again," she turned towards him, a happy smile on her face.

"Then you must also quit the habit of **_willfully misunderstanding _**me," he looked pointedly at her and she blushed like a child who is properly reprimanded for some mischief or another, "are you still angry because you think that I broke a promise?" He asked her.

"No," she smiled, "for now I know that you did not come as you must be preparing for the competition."

"But I still do not have an answer for my question," he looked at her with interest as she blushed yet again, "did you wait for me?"

"I always do," she looked up at him for just a moment before calling out to Georgiana and asking her to join them in practicing.

It had been only a look, only a moment, only an admission, but to Darcy, it was a look that meant more than a thousand stares, a moment more profound than a year and three words more meaningful than a whole book could be. She had waited for him, she had been angry that he did not come and she had trusted him enough to sulk in front of him for she knew, she must know that he could not see her annoyed at him.

For Darcy, the whole day passed in a pleasant haze. They practiced some more and true to his word, Darcy's team went ahead to win the first round even with two amateur players who did not know much about archery. The lunch was laid upon tables that were brought out to the lawns. Everyone had their fill, but Darcy soon retreated back towards the back of the grounds, wanting to **practice **a little more with Elizabeth whom he had spotted going off in the same direction earlier on.

Darcy felt quite confident and pleased at Elizabeth's response to him. As his arms circled her once again, though needlessly this time for she had shown herself to be a rather fine archer for someone this new to the sport, he felt a thrill run through him as his hands touched her bare arms. His chin rested on her shoulder for mere seconds before she turned her face towards him.

Darcy stared at her mesmerized, they had not been this close since the day of her accident. Her countenance seemed flushed either because of the sun that had shone through out that morning, or because of some other reason. Her eyes were so bright today that Darcy could see his reflection in them. His gaze slipped from her eyes to her lips now and the world stopped for him. How he had longed for her, to take her in his arms, to touch her like no one had ever touched her before, to capture her soft, inviting lips in his own, never to let go.

And now she was in his arms, her lips so close to his, begging to be kissed. _'Oh hang propriety,' _he thought in abandon, _'there is no one here anyways.' _ His face moved closer to Elizabeth's as her breathing became uneven and her eyes stared at him transfixed. Just when it felt as if nothing could stop him from taking what was rightfully his he jerked up to his full height because a searing pain sliced through his left side, as though something had stabbed him. He looked down and his eyes fell on Elizabeth's horrified expression before they saw the blood rapidly colouring his white shirt.

**….**

Elizabeth skipped down the slope from Sleighton Manor to the small area covered with trees at almost the base of it. She roamed among the trees as her eyes searched for Mr. Darcy. _'Mr. Darcy,' _she thought of the tall, handsome man who never went farther from her thoughts nowadays. She had fallen into the habit of meeting him every day in the woods and though she knew it to be improper, she could not resist the urge to meet him there either.

To know the real man behind the façade of pride and reserve had become her first wish. She subjected him to all manner of questions about his family, his childhood and his views and opinions. And though he was not one to go on and on about himself, indeed some questions made him extremely awkward to say the least, but he did answer them all in his dry clipped way.

She walked around looking for a mop of raven hair atop a broad back clad in a riding habit that suited him quite well, just like every other attire. He had not come yet so Elizabeth decided to wait for Mr. Darcy by the fence, near which he had told her about his history with Mr. Wickham. She shuddered again at the thought of the fiend behind that pleasant face and open manners. To be a gamester and a womanizer was one thing but to try and manipulate a young and unsuspecting girl, a child really, into eloping with him was a grotesque act of vengeance against a family who had been nothing but kind to him. _'Had he no respect for even his mentor?' _Thought Elizabeth with righteous anger, for that is what Mr. Darcy's father had been to Mr. Wickham.

She stared ahead, far away in the distance with unseeing eyes as a feeling of utter embarrassment and shame gripped her anew. How she lamented berating Mr. Darcy, every chance she had got, in front of friends and family alike and even in front of people who did not know him then, like the Gardiners. She fully acknowledged the justice of his ire at the Parsonage. How terribly she had acted towards a decent man who had come to offer her everything that he was. Not only had she rejected his suit, but in a manner that not even the most forbearing of men could ever deign to forget.

Elizabeth sighed and raising herself a little, sat on the fence. That he was of a forgiving nature, she doubted not, for though he had once admitted to being resentful, she had seen nothing of it in his behaviour towards herself. If he were the sort to keep grudges, he would never have treated her with the respect he showed her now and what he did for Jane could also only be seen in the most amiable light.

She untied her bonnet and stretched her neck to survey the path that he was to come by, but no horse was visible that day. Elizabeth sighed again and her mind wandered off towards her dreams and visions. Mr. Darcy's narration of both his interference in the matter of Jane and Mr. Bingley and the truth about Mr. Wickham had somehow seemed familiar, as if she had heard the whole account before. But that was not possible, where could she have possibly learnt of it before? Could Jane have told her? She jumped off the fence in frustration and decided not to think upon what appeared familiar and what did not.

She wondered, as she walked towards the trees again, if Mr. Darcy had been hiding behind some tree, like she had one day not too long ago. A slow smile curved her lips at the memory.

_She reached the woods a little early one day and decided to tease Mr. Darcy by hiding. He came soon enough but __Elizabeth__ stayed well concealed behind the wide trunk of a tree. She heard him moving around in the woods and a giggle escaped her throat._

_"I know that you are somewhere here, Miss Bennet," he called out in a pleasant tenor, "I can hear you." __Elizabeth__ pressed her hand firmly to her mouth so that no rebel chuckle could now escape her._

_"Miss Bennet you can come out of your own accord or I can apply whatever means I have at my disposal," he threatened in a calm voice, but __Elizabeth__ remained unmoved. Soon enough she could hear the excited yelps of a frenzied Sir Wuf and before she could locate another tree to hide behind she found herself being barked at by Sir Wuf and stared at by its owner._

_"This is not fair Mr. Darcy," she pouted, "you were supposed to look for me yourself, involving Sir Wuf is beneath you."_

_"All is fair in love and war, Miss Bennet," he shrugged his shoulders and she stepped away from the tree._

_"I did not know that we were at war Mr. Darcy," __Elizabeth__ said playfully on the outside but inside her heart had started to pound rather forcefully at Mr. Darcy's allusion to **love.**_

_"I am not," he agreed wholeheartedly, "but perhaps you are," he said offering her his arm that she gladly took as both of them started on the well trodden path while the little pup ran ahead._

_"With you?" She asked in surprise, for she had come to think of Mr. Darcy as a friend in the past few days._

_"Perhaps with yourself," he said looking rather pointedly at her as their speed increased on descending ground._

_Elizabeth__ was stunned for a moment. Did he really know her so well as to be certain that not only was she fighting with the onslaught of her memories but also with her growing attraction to Mr. Darcy himself? She knew how expressive her eyes were, but she was likewise aware of the fact that Mr. Darcy had already once misunderstood her response to him, so how could he be in the know about her true feelings now? **'No,'** she thought, **'he** **must only be referring to my memories.'**_

_"You mean my memories," she said flatly, looking away at the thinning trees, "yes, maybe I am. But I would not call it so much of a fight as a struggle to understand how I could have done the things that I do in my dreams and visions."_

_"Surely they cannot be that dreadful," she turned towards him and found him looking at her with a sudden sadness in his blue eyes._

_"Maybe…maybe they would not have been so bad if I had not come here and met…," she stopped then and looked beseechingly at him, as if he could give her an answer, "Oh Mr. Darcy," she cried as she stopped in mid stride, pulling at his arm somewhat, "have you never felt like some unseen force is pulling you back, when all you want to do is move ahead and leave all that has been, behind?"_

_"No," he replied firmly, "whatever the past Miss Bennet, we must learn to live with it."_

_"But what if you do not know the past," __Elizabeth__ asked dejectedly, her grip going slack on his arm, "and whatever little you remember, seems impossible to have occurred?"_

_"Nothing is impossible Miss Bennet," he said resolutely as they started walking again, slowly this time._

_"But my memories are," __Elizabeth__ argued._

_"Maybe you are not looking at them from the right perspective," he suggested in a matter of fact way._

_"I cannot look at them from any other perspective but my own, and to me that would always be the right one," she said stubbornly._

_"You have been wrong before," he said meaningfully._

_"But not in this," she was adamant._

_"You once called me the soul of obstinacy," his voice took that teasing tone that he used sometimes to rile her, "would you mind very much if I returned the compliment?"_

_"What if I took my comment back?" She quickly slipped back into bantering with him, her mood lightening up again._

_"Mine would still hold," he said firmly, "you are one of the most stubborn people I have ever had the pleasure to come across."_

_"Is that so?" She asked looking up into his eyes resting on her face in amusement. **'Oh believe me Mr. Darcy,' **she thought, **'the pleasure is all mine.'** And then she blushed at her own thoughts, if Mr. Darcy were ever to find out what she was thinking, she would surely die of embarrassment, "well you do know how to flatter a woman with pretty compliments, Mr. Darcy," she said with mock petulance, as her eyes danced with mirth._

_"I did not know you cared for those," he absentmindedly placed his hand on hers resting in the crook of his arm._

_"That just goes to show how little you know about the ladies," she raised an eyebrow trying to distract herself from the effect his touch was having on her._

_"I…," he hesitated for a moment and looked guardedly at her as they reached the fence and Mr. Darcy let go of her hand to move to the other side of it, "I…do have…there is…," he stopped again and Elizabeth looked at him in awe as the proud Mr. Darcy blushed for some reason when they stood facing each other, the broken fence standing between them. "I have always admired your eyes," he blurted out, making __Elizabeth__ flush to the roots of her hair._

_"M-my eyes?" she stammered._

_"You have remarkably expressive eyes Miss Bennet," he said looking keenly at her with his own remarkably intense ones, "from the very beginning of our acquaintance, I have been fascinated by them time and again."_

_"Mr. Darcy, I…," she could hardly believe her ears as she placed her hands on the fence to grip it tightly, he had never paid her any compliment before, and where his deep voice soothed her vanity, it also wreaked havoc with her emotions._

_"I know that I have not been able to read them precisely," he carried on regardless of her embarrassment, "but they have always reflected your moods. Do you know how bright they shine when you are excited about some thing?" He asked as he stared deeply into her eyes and his hands came to rest near hers on the fence._

_"I…I had not…," she faltered and thought, **'what is it about his words that I cannot form a single coherent sentence in reply?'**_

_"Your eyes look beautiful whether they are clouded with deep thought, or dancing with mirth," it seemed as though he could not stop himself, she had never seen him so voluble before, "I even find your eyes appealing when they are flashing in anger at me, they are breathtaking in every expression." He finished leaving __Elizabeth__ slightly breathless. She inhaled deeply, not wanting to say anything till she was master of herself._

_"Have I embarrassed you?" He asked looking at her in amusement mixed with concern as he crossed over to her side of the fence._

_"A little," she blushed again and averted her **expressive **eyes from him as he took a post quite close to her._

_"It was not my intention," he said in earnest._

_"I did not know you were such an adept at flattery," she looked archly at his handsome face._

_"And I did not know that you could be so easily embarrassed," he returned in the same spirit._

_"Then it is one more thing that we know about each other," __Elizabeth__'s face softened as she basked in the glow of his admiring eyes._

_"And one more thing we lo…ahem…like about each other," he said meaningfully after that one near slip, causing her to blush and Sir Wuf to bark._

_"It is time for you to get back Mr. Darcy," she chuckled at his chagrined expression._

_"Remind me why I bring it along," he complained looking fondly at the little pup circling his feet in utter devotion._

_Elizabeth's laugh tinkered in the woods, long after both of them had gone back to their abodes._

She now wondered as she stood by the fence once again if he was about to say **love **but substituted it for **like **in time, so she would not notice. The hour was getting late and Rose must be waiting for her to have their tea together. They had developed a habit of having tea everyday after Elizabeth came back from her walk, and even though they talked about a lot of things during that time, Elizabeth never told her who her walking companion was these days.

Elizabeth walked back to Sleighton Manor in a steadily rising temper, sure that Mr. Darcy had consciously made her wait. When she reached the house, Rose informed her about an archery competition at Brookridge Hall and they quickly repaired to their rooms to prepare for it. Once at Brookridge, Elizabeth felt her anger at Mr. Darcy still rising, for though she did realize that he could not come in the morning because of the competition, she still felt sure that he could have found some way to communicate his upcoming absence from their daily stroll.

But Mr. Darcy had lately developed a flair for distinguishing her frame of mind and acting accordingly, so it was that after a little spat, she found herself in his arms and in a much better mood. But she was only in his arms because he was showing her how to shoot an arrow and that required him to have his arms around her to hold the bow and arrow. However that did not require him to likewise breathe on her neck or brush his hands lightly along her bare arms, but he did that anyways, causing Elizabeth to blush profusely at how they must have looked to everyone else, but her concern was needless as everyone else was too busy with their own practice to have noticed them.

"What are you sketching," she walked away from Mr. Darcy as he stood shooting arrows at the target, "may I see?" Georgiana hastily covered the sketch she was working at with other papers.

"Of course," she replied warily, "I was just tweaking a few of my older sketches." Georgiana held a few sketches out to her, and Elizabeth took them, sitting carefully down on the ground with her.

Most of the sketches were of Mr. Darcy, sitting on a desk or reading a book, his expression serious. She perused through them till one sketch caught her attention, it was a sketch of Mr. Darcy, as he sat on a bench in a clearing amidst trees. Elizabeth's heart fluttered pleasantly as she noticed the smile that had the power to make her heart skip a beat, on his lips as he stared out at a tree. Then suddenly her eyes narrowed, it was not just a tree, she could make out the side of a woman's gown as she sat under it, and a mere peak at her shoulder. She turned towards Mr. Darcy again and was certain this time that he was looking at the woman, and his smile was also for her.

"Who is the lady in the sketch?" She asked Georgiana, her curiosity barely concealed.

"She is a friend," she replied vaguely and then blushed piquing her curiosity further. Elizabeth stared at the sketch a long time before she returned it to her.

"It is a beautiful sketch, Georgiana," Elizabeth decided not to dwell on the woman too much, after all she had just promised Mr. Darcy not to willfully misunderstand him, "you are a marvelous artist." And then suddenly her eyes fell on Georgiana's initials at the end of the sketch and her eyes widened in surprise. "You are G.A.D?" She asked incredulously, turning towards her, "you are the one who sent me that sketch through Jane?"

"Yes," Georgiana said meekly, "I drew it when you came to Pemberley. I gave it to Mrs. Bingley in the hope that maybe it shall help you remember. Did you not like it?"

"Of course I liked it Georgiana," Elizabeth looked fondly at the young girl who had suffered so much at Mr. Wickham's hands, "I thank you for it, you have made me look much better than my actual self in it."

"No, indeed," Georgiana cried, "I did not do you justice, I am sure."

"Miss Bennet, Georgiana," Mr. Darcy called them just then, "the competition is going to begin now, come along."

Elizabeth had known Mr. Darcy to excel at whatever he put his mind to, but the determination with which he entered the game was something that exceeded her expectations.

"I would not want to be an opponent to your brother Georgiana," she whispered in her ears after Mr. Darcy hit the bull's eye for the third time in a row, and they both giggled.

"He is rather formidable whenever he takes part in a game," she told her conspiratorially, "he does not know how to lose, which is why he tries to excel at whatever he undertakes."

The other teams did well too, but since the maximum points were granted to the team that hit the inner most target maximum times, therefore Mr. Darcy's team had a clear win, with Lt. Trent's team coming a close second. Elizabeth saw Miss Isabella fuming and glaring rather angrily at Mr. Darcy and laughed at her childish antics as she did at her brother's obvious attempts at trying to keep Rose occupied with him and him alone.

After lunch she strolled back towards where Georgiana's sketches laid under a tree, near the targets at which they had practiced. She picked up the same sketch of Mr. Darcy smiling at that unknown woman sitting under the tree. A frown appeared on her brow, the whole scene looked familiar, maybe she had visited this particular clearing when she visited Pemberley.

"You disapprove?" Mr. Darcy's voice jerked her out of her reverie, she looked up to find him standing right in front of her in just his shirt and breeches, looking rather dashing. Her frown deepened as the words sounded already heard.

**_'And you disapprove?' A man's voice asked_**

"Are you looking for compliments Mr. Darcy?" She looked archly at him as she dropped the sketch down and walked with him towards where the bows and arrows were placed. She heard the voice from her memories trying to capture her notice, but pushed it away, she did not, once again, want to get caught up in a tumult of memories and emotions, similar to what she had gone through in the library.

"I have been told that I look better when I smile," she turned sharply towards him as he looked teasingly at her. Elizabeth had a vague recollection then.

**_'…you have such a beautiful smile…' her own voice cried in her ears_**

"Maybe whoever told you this was toying with you," she rubbed lightly at her temple, standing firm in the face of the memory that wanted to conquer her mind, taking refuge behind teasing Mr. Darcy.

"She does not lie," he said firmly as they stopped near the table with the archery supplies.

"You smiled for her then?" She asked dryly, jealousy for the unknown woman overriding the brief peak into her memory.

"Her presence was successful in keeping a smile on my face that day," he said fondly as he picked up the bow.

**_'…sit by the alder…it would help me to smile…' there was that voice again _**

"Mr. Darcy," she swayed lightly and gripped the table. Her voice shook somewhat as she asked him a question, "was that tree an alder?" Her heart was beating rapidly now, so much depended on his answer. She stared at him with such intensity that her whole being became her eyes.

"Oh no," he replied nonchalantly, fixing the arrow, "I think it is an oak."

Elizabeth felt a moment's disappointment, but at least one thing was confirmed, _'the man in my visions and dreams is not Mr. Darcy,' _she thought sadly, without stopping to think that they might have two different trees in their minds while having that conversation. She sighed and pushed all morose thoughts out of her mind, concentrating only on the game which Mr. Darcy was determined to win.

"Miss Bennet your aim is not yet perfect," Mr. Darcy handed her the bow and arrow, "you must practice more." Elizabeth rolled her eyes, the man was a perfectionist.

"But I am tired," she complained, "and in case you have forgotten, we did **win the first round."**

"Turn around Miss Bennet," he ordered in a stern voice, "and in case you have forgotten, **we still have two more rounds to go."**

"But I do not want to practice anymore," she complained again as she took aim and gasped lightly as Mr. Darcy's warm hands trailed lightly up her arms to capture her hands softly.

"So soon?" he questioned from somewhere near the nape of her neck, his hot breath trickling down her spine in a tremor, "I thought you were indefatigable."

"Merely where long walks are concerned," she managed to choke out an answer with difficulty, as his nearness was causing her breath to become erratic.

"And what about this?" He moved a little as she could now feel his breath near her ear.

"This, Mr. Darcy?" She asked as she slowly turned towards him. His face was nearer and the air was scarcer than she had expected, for her lungs could not have enough of it.

"This Miss Bennet," he agreed as his stormy blue eyes searched her dark ones.

"What do you mean when you say **_this?"_**She croaked, as her heartbeat increased manifold with the increase in his grip on her hands, he was pulling her closer almost imperceptibly.

"What do you think I mean?" He asked her in a voice so husky it was barely above a whisper.

"Mr. Darcy," she wanted it to sound like a question but it fell off her lips like a prayer.

His intense gaze held her eyes for a few more moments before it fell to her lips. Elizabeth found it impossible to breathe anymore, her hands were only attached to the bow because Mr. Darcy was holding them there, and otherwise might have fallen to her sides a long time ago. His face was coming nearer hers by slow degrees, his eyes never wavering from her lips which suddenly felt parched. She could not believe what was happening, but neither did she care. As Elizabeth's eyes fell to his lips, the same ones that kissed her in her dreams with such passion, she felt her eyes flutter shut in response to the question in Mr. Darcy's eyes.

But right before his hot breath could touch her lips, his body suddenly jerked away and the bow and arrow fell to the ground. Elizabeth's eyes flew open as she looked up at his face, contorted in pain, and then followed down to his side where blood was rapidly giving his white shirt a deep red hue. For a brief, heart wrenching moment, she looked at the wound to his heart and her own heart stopped dead along with everything else in the world. She stared at the red colour spreading swiftly on the crisp white lawn, unable to move, unable to breathe, going numb with shock, the shock not only of loss but also of **realization. **But that moment passed quickly and she became aware that it must be his arm that was injured and not his heart, his kind, generous heart.

"Mr. Darcy," she cried in horror as her hand first flew to her mouth and then instinctively to his arm, trying, in vain, to stop the blood flow, "you are bleeding," she said in a daze.

"Do not worry Miss Bennet," he consoled her in a voice that was becoming increasingly weak, "it is only my arm."

"But how…I must call someone," she looked around like a scared deer, "Rose," she cried out to her friend and then the man beside her, "Mr. Mark."

Rapid footsteps approached and it seemed that within moments the whole party was with them, everyone saying something. But Elizabeth heard nothing; she said nothing, not even when Miss Collier removed her hand off Mr. Darcy's arm and put a handkerchief in its place, not even when Mr. Mark dragged a reluctant Mr. Darcy off towards the house, not even when Mr. Darcy turned around to look one last time at her before everyone disappeared inside and not even when her heart slowed down to a deathly pace. Her trance got broken only when a heavily sobbing Miss Isabella came running into her arms.

"I am sorry," she cried again and again, "I am so sorry, I did not mean to hurt him. Indeed he is dearer to me than my own brother."

"Shush," a dazed Elizabeth tried to console the crying girl who was embracing her rather fiercely, "it is going to be alright." _'Yes,' _she thought through the haze, _'he is going to be alright.'_

"I meant no harm," she sobbed on her shoulder, "I only wanted him to suffer a little for how he humiliated me at the beach. I only meant to graze his skin with the arrow, I had no idea that it would cause him such an injury."

"Hmm," Elizabeth said absently as the picture of Mr. Darcy's blood spilling out on his shirt affixed itself to her mind.

"Do you think he will hate me now?" She asked morosely.

"No," Elizabeth had no idea what she was saying or hearing, _'what if the arrow really had pierced his heart?' _She questioned herself as her heartbeat slowed down once again at the painful thought.

"Would you ask him to forgive me?" Miss Isabella looked beseechingly at Elizabeth now.

"Of course," she replied vaguely. Elizabeth had closed her eyes a few minutes ago, ready to give herself up to a beautiful sensation and had opened them to the most agonizing sight that she had ever beheld and therefore her mind still reeled with it.

"Do you think I should go inside and apologize now?" She asked again.

Elizabeth nodded without knowing what she did. Miss Isabella wiped her tears with the back of her hand and then walked slowly off towards the house. Elizabeth stood there for a few moments, her mind devoid of all thought, and then she suddenly started walking towards the gates of the house. By the time she reached the gates she had broken into a run, she ran and ran until she reached the fence that would always remind her of the one man she had come to value above all. She stood reclined on it, taking deep breaths and then she murmured, as if to herself,

"Good God, what have I done," she stared at her shaking hand, now covered in Mr. Darcy's blood, "I have fallen in love with Mr. Darcy."

**Next Chapter: How to Waltz When No One is Watching**

**A/N: I would like to tell all the readers who are getting restless for ****Elizabeth**** to remember already that I am planning to end the story at 40 chapters with one more (maybe) for the epilogue. So there aren't many chapters left now, stay with me for a little while longer.**

**Thank you so much to everyone who has ever reviewed, favourited (my spell check tells me that it is not a word, so kindly adjust), followed and read my story. Your love and support means the world to me, and these are not just empty words. **


	34. Chapter 34

**Memory reference: Chapter 18, the scene in the Portrait Gallery. Darcy's POV.**

**Chapter 21, the scene in the clearing among the woods. Elizabeth's POV.**

**Chapter 34: How to Waltz when No One is Watching**

Elizabeth stood by the fence staring at her hand with Mr. Darcy's blood on it as wave after wave of shock splattered her from all sides. The feelings rapidly rising in her heart were too new to be easily comprehended but too strong to be easily suppressed. The sheer impossibility of such a change to have occurred in her had made her faculties fled.

As her legs started to tremble, she quickly stepped under the nearest tree and sat down on the ground hugging her knees to herself. It often happens that when you see someone injured or ill, the first thought you have is _'what if he or she died?' _That is exactly what had happened to Elizabeth Bennet, when she saw the blood on Mr. Darcy's shirt. Her mind had taken rapid leaps till it reached the conclusion that something had hit Mr. Darcy's heart and that she was going to lose him, forever. That jolt though unfounded, was powerful enough to have woken up all the feelings she had been trying to suppress by way of one excuse or another, ever since she had met Mr. Darcy at Torquay or maybe even before that.

She placed her head on her arms, that were folded around her knees, and closed her eyes. How she had struggled not to enjoy his company, to misconstrue his meaning, to loath his nearness, but it was all in vain. Her first impression of his ill-humored manner in Hertfordshire was so strong that she still felt some surprise every time he smiled, which was not that often, but the truth was that she had also began waiting for those smiles to emerge, sometimes even consciously provoking their appearance. The long held view of him being an unpleasant, conceited person was imprinted so strongly on her mind that it had taken her a long time to recognize his true worth, and now that she had discovered it, she had no option left but to esteem him wholly and sincerely. She remembered how vexed she had felt when he had asked her to dance with her at the Netherfield Ball and marveled at how she had come to crave his nearness now.

Elizabeth raised her head and reclined her back to the tree, staring ahead with blind eyes. Maybe he was once proud or maybe he still was, but he had never been so to her, and at Jane's wedding, his behaviour was so altered from his previous visit to Hertfordshire that not even her mother could find anything to complain about in Mr. Darcy. He had strong principles and was firm where he believed himself to be right as could be gathered from his determined avoidance of Mr. Wickham but he had also shown himself to be a man open to admitting his faults and eager to correct them, as could be deduced from the role he played in bringing Mr. Bingley and Jane together.

She got up and started walking around restlessly among the trees, as a slow breeze started, making her shiver a little because she had left her bonnet and bolero back at Brookridge in her haste to be away from there. Love had crept inside her heart and taken a strong hold of it while she frolicked around, secure in the knowledge that her heart was not one to be easily touched. But Mr. Darcy had touched her heart, taken it into his warm hands and held it securely, so that there was no way to bring it back. One by one he had broken through all her defenses, and imprinted his image so firmly on her heart and mind that no matter where she looked it was his reflection that she saw.

Elizabeth stopped near a tree and placed her hands on it to support herself. He was everywhere she looked and even when she closed her eyes, his face burned in her irises. He had dominated both her life and her dreams, to escape him was not a possibility anymore. He stared down in shock, at her from his full height among these very trees, and looked up at her with his stormy blue eyes as he sat under the rock she was perched upon, at the beach. He looked at her in disapproval mingled with amusement across the table, his face half hidden by his cards and he looked at her with compassion as he held out a glass of wine to her in the library. He was present wherever she went and it was a presence she cherished above all.

Elizabeth's hands moved around the tree and she rested her forehead on it, as she slowly came back to her senses. She was waking up from a dream of what she thought love would be to the reality of what it was, and **it was Mr. Darcy. **She realized now that it was not the work of a moment, love for him must have been gradually accumulating inside her until one jolt forced it to come spilling out. She breathed deeply as the one sentence _'I love him' _repeated itself again and again in her mind.

She thought of her behaviour this morning and it did not seem strange to her anymore. The way she had yearned for his company in the woods and had become irritable when she could not find it, now seemed perfectly natural. Meeting him everyday was now a compulsion for Elizabeth, walking with him a habit and talking to him an impulse, **he** was an addiction that **she** could not quit. Indeed, she was ready to give breathing without air a try but not living without Mr. Darcy.

She turned around and a slow smiled curved her lips, giving her an almost ethereal look. He was wonderful, love was wonderful, this feeling that coursed through her veins was wonderful. Elizabeth stepped away from the tree and twirled lightly, her arms outstretched. She thought about him and his blue eyes flashed in front of her, his beautiful, intense eyes that she had come to love, that held her entranced every time they rested upon her for more than a few moments, that made her blush with their intensity, that caressed her face like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Elizabeth stopped and walked towards the fence once again, resting her hands on it. She could not deny that he was a handsome man. Butterflies rose inside her as she thought of his face so near her own as their lips almost touched, that brief warmth of his breath on her lips seemed like a most prized memory to her right now. Her nerves tingled as the memory of his touch upon her hands, her arms and her waist warmed her skin once more.

His behaviour towards her, every time she had a memory flashback in his presence, was proof of his kind and considerate nature. Elizabeth realized that she had come to take strength from his silent support and that was why no matter how agitated she felt, his single touch was enough to calm her senses, enough to reassure her that as long as he was there, she would be all right.

All of a sudden, the skies opened up and it started to rain, drenching Elizabeth from head to toe. Elizabeth kept standing there and held out her hand, allowing the rain to wash away the blood as well as all her inhibitions. She was free to love him, then why should she try and fight it anymore, indeed it did not make any sense. The only thing that could possibly deter her was the fact that she was not sure if Mr. Darcy returned her regard. It was true that he had been generous, open and attentive towards her, however that did not mean that the feelings he had professed for her once still lingered in his heart. But Elizabeth decided not to dwell on whether or not he loved her, she only wanted to relish the feeling of loving him right now, there would be plenty of time to assess if she was loved in return, later.

She started walking back to Sleighton Manor at a brisk speed. She never knew falling in love would be such a heart warming experience. Every time her mind drifted towards Mr. Darcy, her cheeks burned with the force of her feelings for him. She frowned as she thought of his injury, but her nerves were calm enough now to be sure that it was not too deep, and he was likely to make a quick recovery. If only she could be with him right now, to see him, be near him, take care of him. Elizabeth felt heat seep into her face again, at the thought of facing him after the revelation she had just had.

She reached the gates of the large house and ran the rest of the way, with only one thought, one wish in her mind and her heart, to see him. She wished now that she had stolen one of his many sketches from Georgiana's collection, to gaze at it endlessly whenever she was alone. Elizabeth entered the house and told Betsy to draw a bath quickly and climbed up the stairs to her room. While Betsy was busy with preparing the bath for her, Elizabeth got out of her outer clothing and when the maid informed her that it was ready she dismissed her, stripped completely and stepped into the warm bath.

She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the soothing effect that the warm water had on her body and mind. Mr. Darcy was of course the only person in her thoughts, and the yearning to be with him was getting stronger every moment. Just when she thought that she would not be able to take one more moment of this sweet agony, her body too tired from the morning's excursion and her mind from the sudden insight into her true feelings, gave in to the oblivion of a deep sleep.

_**She was walking briskly towards a large, beautiful house with just one thought on her mind…I have to see him…I have to see him now…she entered the house and quickly went towards a large room, the walls of which were covered with portraits of people unknown to her… her eyes alighted on the one portrait that she was searching for…her heart warmed…it was Mr. Darcy who stared down at her as she touched his face**_

_**'…Elizabeth…' someone called her from behind and she turned around stricken as everything darkened casting a shadow between her and Mr. Darcy**_

_**'…do you feel something for me, anything?' the deep voice begged her and she felt drawn to him, she could not deny him what he asked for**_

_**'…everything…' she told him**_

_**'Will you marry me?' the same voice asked and she turned around to look at Mr. Darcy's portrait once again…but it was gone**_

_**'Yes' she said and somehow it felt right**_

_**'…do you have any idea how much I love you?' he asked her as he kissed her hands making her shiver with pleasure**_

_**'…I love you…' she told him with feeling**_

_**'…Elizabeth…' he said her name with reverence and then his lips were upon hers, kissing her with painful softness, arousing sensations that she had not known before, but suddenly she felt choked…her breathing became laboured**_

_**'…I c-can-not…b-breathe…' she panted**_

Elizabeth gasped and came out of the water panting for air, coughing and spluttering heavily. She had fallen asleep in her bath and was now enveloped in the cold water. Gone was the warmth of new found love, she was now surrounded only by a sudden chill that gnawed at her heart, till she found it difficult to breath.

She quickly got out of the water, reached for the towel and dried herself vigorously, as if trying to remove the effects of the dream. She grabbed the first dress that she found and slipped it on, wrapped herself in a shawl and walked towards the fire that Betsy must have lit for her. Elizabeth crouched down on the hearth rug and rubbed her hands together to make them warm.

The dream, still fresh in her mind had pulled her back into the realm of uncertainty and doubt. She could ignore the visions if not block them completely, but what of the dreams, there was no hiding from them. Once again this dream was pointing to the same conclusion that her vision in the library had, she had accepted the proposal of marriage from a man and was therefore engaged to him, and if the dreams and visions were to be believed, in love with him too.

She felt miserable on a day that should have been the happiest of her life. This was the day that had made her aware of the beauty of loving a man worthy of being loved and esteemed, a man who made her fall for him without even trying, a man who had the power to make her heart beat erratically with just a touch of his hand, but also to calm her fluttering nerves with just such an action. Was she meant to give that up for an unknown person, who she was supposedly engaged to?

Elizabeth went down to dinner with a heavy heart and found everyone, except the Lieutenant, assembled there.

"Lizzy why did you disappear from Brookridge?" Rose asked her in concern.

"I had developed a headache," Elizabeth lied, "I thought it best to come away."

"I did not know when you came back, Lizzy," Mrs. Trent told her, "it was Betsy that informed me that you had indeed arrived back and quite drenched, who could have guessed that it would rain after such a sunny morning."

"The rain took me unawares," Elizabeth told the kind woman.

"How is Darcy now?" The Admiral asked Rose.

"The wound is not too deep," she replied, "the doctor told him to have it dressed afresh every day and it would heal swiftly. Bella however did not have it too easy, she accepted that she had shot Mr. Darcy with her arrow. I have never seen Mrs. Collier in such a temper before, even though Mr. Darcy told her that he did not mind too much."

"That child has grown rather wild over the years," Mrs. Trent commented and the rest of the dinner was spent in the discussion of the Colliers.

Elizabeth paid hardly any attention to anything that was said except that Mr. Darcy was not too badly injured and soon excused herself to go to bed early. But sleep eluded her for a long time before it claimed her as did a dream more vivid then the first but on the same lines. Elizabeth woke up the next morning with dejected spirits and a heart that asked for its only desire, Mr. Darcy, but with her dreams weighing heavily on her mind, she could do nothing but deny it.

…**..**

He turned around and saw her still standing where he had left her, staring at some point faraway in the distance, her hand drenched in his blood. _'Why is she not coming inside?'_ He wondered as he entered the house with the whole party. He told everyone to stay in the parlour while they waited for the doctor and went to his room where his valet immediately took to cleaning his wound.

Darcy stood by the window and stared at Elizabeth's lonely figure standing in the vast ground. He wondered again what was ailing her, for she seemed to be rooted to one spot ever since the arrow had hit him. And suddenly Bella came running and embraced Elizabeth rather fiercely. Darcy looked on as Elizabeth patted a distraught Bella while she sobbed heavily and then started telling Elizabeth something. He winced as the pain increased after the valet had cleaned the wound up and turned around to take a look at it. The wound was still bleeding though not as profusely as before, the cut was not too deep and, he hoped, would not need stitches and heal soon enough. Darcy turned back towards the window and saw Elizabeth running out of the gates with no Bella to be seen.

He frowned. Why did Elizabeth not come inside? Did she have no interest in his well being? And yet she had seemed horrified at the sight of his blood at first, the image of her small hand trying to stop him from bleeding further was one of his favourite images to date. He smiled at the thought of her obvious dismay and then he frowned again when he remembered what was about to happen when they got interrupted.

He was damned if she was not about to accept his kiss, willingly. He unconsciously ran his tongue over his lips at the thought of Elizabeth's lips so close to his own, if the wretched arrow had not hit him at that most unfortunate moment, he might still be savouring her sweet taste. _'That dratted arrow,' _he groaned in frustration, causing his valet to jump a little. He wondered how it had come to slice through his arm.

"The doctor is here to see you Mr. Darcy," a footman announced after knocking at the door and Darcy then gave himself up to an examination by the doctor, who did not see anything serious in his wound and allowed him to do as he pleased, as long as he had the wound dressed regularly.

A distressed Georgiana came to him after the doctor left, informing him that it was Bella who had shot him and that she would never talk to her again. Darcy laughed the whole thing off, his mind caught somewhere in the horror-struck eyes of Elizabeth and the rain that poured heavily outside now.

…**..**

"Oh look," Rose pointed towards the other side of Sleighton's lawn, "the Colliers and their cousins are here."

Elizabeth turned around, her heart beating loudly and saw Mr. Mark, Miss Irene and Georgiana approaching where she was seated with Rose and Lt. Trent, Mr. Darcy was not with them. The dead weight that had settled in her stomach ever since that awful dream she had had, increased some more. She sighed deeply and tried to smile at the guests, putting away Jane's letter in which she had informed her of her arrival back in England. The fiances went inside the house while Mr. Mark grabbed Rose's arm rather forcefully and they went off towards the other side of the lawn for some privacy, or so assumed Elizabeth.

"Why did Miss Isabella not come with you today?" Elizabeth turned towards Georgiana and asked in what she hoped was a composed voice.

"Do you not know what she did to William?" Georgiana cried, "I shall never talk to her again," She said resolutely and then folded her arms on her chest.

"It has been two days, Georgiana," Elizabeth looked at her in surprise, "have you two not made up yet?"

"Two days is not that long a duration for me to forgive a person who tried to hurt William," she was still firm about her decision.

Elizabeth sighed, two days, it had been two days since she had seen Mr. Darcy. To Georgiana it was not **that long a duration, **but to Elizabeth it had seemed like an eternity, an agonizing eternity of conflicting emotions. She had changed her time of going out for a walk and had refused to accompany Rose whenever she went to Brookridge. Elizabeth had basically closed all avenues for a chance meeting between herself and Mr. Darcy. Her dreams were becoming more forceful, as was her conviction of being engaged to the man that she did not recognize and yet who somehow felt familiar.

"It is better to forgive," she reasoned with a pouting Georgiana, "you shall feel better when you do."

"I cannot," came her adamant reply.

"Trust me Georgiana," she insisted, "letting go of our grievances always makes us feel better."

"Then why have you not forgiven William yet?" Georgiana looked archly at her.

"What do I have to forgive him for?" Elizabeth felt surprised at Georgiana's vehemence.

"For what he said to you at the Parsonage," she replied looking intently at her.

"I…you know about that?" Elizabeth's astonishment was great at this revelation, Georgiana nodded. "There was nothing to forgive," she averted her eyes, "it was a misunderstanding that we have clarified."

"Have you?" Georgiana's face brightened, "then why have you not come to see him after his injury?"

"Staying exposed to the sun for such a long duration that day has made my headaches worse," Elizabeth repeated a well versed excuse of her own creation, "I have stopped going out in the mornings too, for it makes my headache quite worse."

"Oh, have you consulted the doctor about it?" Georgiana immediately became worried.

"It is all right," Elizabeth smiled consolingly at her, "a little rest shall cure me in a few days. How is Mr. Darcy now?" She asked changing the topic.

"He is fine," Georgiana smiled, "he goes out for a walk with Sir Wuf everyday," she frowned then, "but he has become somewhat quiet after his injury, previously whenever he came back from his morning walk he would be in a very pleasant mood, but now he just seems withdrawn."

Elizabeth's heart made a painful lurch at this. She did not want to be the reason for Mr. Darcy's sadness, but her heart was telling her that it was because of her that he was drifting back into his shell.

"Would you come to Brookridge Hall the day after tomorrow?" Georgiana asked her hesitantly, "Ilythia and Mark are going to show us how to waltz, for the upcoming Christmas ball."

"I shall if I am feeling better," Elizabeth told her, knowing well that it was not her health that was going to rule her decision to go or stay, it was her heart.

…**.**

Darcy walked back from the woods, feeling too dejected to notice Sir Wuf's antics to get his attention. Elizabeth had stopped visiting Brookridge Hall and the woods all of a sudden. He could not explain away her sudden disappearance. It did seem as though she was trying to avoid him like before, but previously all his surmises have turned out to be incorrect and she was only recuperating from her visions. He did not want to jump to any conclusions, and after all Georgiana had told him that she had been having headaches after the day of the archery competition.

He thought of the Waltz practice that Ilythia had organized at home that day and felt hopeful that Elizabeth might come. Lately an idea had started to take root in his mind, he had been weighing the possibility of proposing to Elizabeth yet again, without any reference to her memories. She seemed recovered enough, except some few and far between episodes of headaches or vertigo, besides he did not plan on making any allusion to the past. He only wanted to secure her hand for now, there would be time enough for her to recover both her memories and her faculties later. He would be there to help her through the process, if only she would accept him again.

He thought of their interactions here at Torquay and a warm feeling spread through him. Did he not have reason to hope? She was behaving exactly as she had at Pemberley. She was not a bashful person so she had not shied away from his attentions, neither at Pemberley nor here. She had allowed him to take her hand near the fence in the woods just like at the balcony of his room there, she had taken to teasing him and questioning him about something or nothing like before. She blushed at his attentions and trembled at his touch, Darcy was not a child that did not understand a woman's reaction to him, she had, after all, almost accepted his kiss.

Sir Wuf ran ahead as the gates of Brookridge came into view. He had promised himself that he would wait till she regained all her memories, but that seemed wholly unnecessary if she accepted his hand now. Darcy felt a familiar thrill of anticipation as he had twice before. Who knew when she would regain her memories, if at all, and what difference did it make if she accepted him after remembering everything or before, she was **his, **and he would make her **his, **soon.

But all that did not mean that he was not a little miffed with her for not coming to see him, even if subconsciously, for such is the wont of lovers, they do feel things deeply, and then react in unexpected ways.

…**..**

"Hurry up Lizzy," Rose said to Elizabeth for a thousandth time that day, "we are going to be late."

"We still have half an hour Rose," Elizabeth said piling her hair up, high on her head, anxiety making her hands tremble slightly, "Miss Collier does not expect us to come sooner than the appointed time, I am sure."

"But Mr. Mark specifically told me to come earlier than that," Rose pouted prettily.

"And you obviously do not have the heart to disappoint him," Elizabeth teased her as she inserted the last pin in her hair and then looked critically at herself in the mirror.

"Just make haste Lizzy," Rose turned away to hide her blush.

Five more minutes saw them on the carriage moving towards Brookridge Hall. It had been four days since the day of the archery competition and Elizabeth had finally ran out of excuses to avoid Mr. Darcy. On Christmas, a ball was to be held at the Assembly Hall at Torquay and the officers of the Royal Navy had convinced the community to include Waltz among the reels that were generally danced on such an occasion. The excitement of doing something that was frowned upon by the majority had the youth of the area in a frenzy, and the occupants of the two houses at Highcombe were no different. Even the ones that were not yet out, as Georgiana and Bella (Miss Isabella had visited Elizabeth one day and asked her to call her Bella from now on) were just as excited as the other ladies. Miss Collier and Mr. Mark had very generously offered to take everyone through the basics of Waltz, since no one else knew even the essentials of the dance in the family besides them and of course their mother, who had taught them how to Waltz.

Elizabeth was reluctant in the extreme to go to Brookridge for such an activity but Rose left her with no choice and so it was that she eyed the approaching gates of the house with trepidation. Staying away from Mr. Darcy had not been easy for her, her heart ached to have just one glimpse of him, but her mind counseled to be wary, for the inescapable presence of a man in her past could not be ignored any longer.

She smiled weakly at Mr. Mark who handed them down the carriage and led them off to a room on the top most floor of the house.

"The ballroom is too large so we decided to use this room for practice," he told them as they climbed up the stairs, "it is quite sunny though and the room has a lot of windows, I hope you brought your fans."

"Oh yes Miss Collier warned us about the temperature in the room," Rose replied and then turned slightly towards Elizabeth, "Did you bring it Lizzy?" Elizabeth nodded just as Mr. Mark halted in front of a door and gestured for them to enter.

"Oh good," Miss Collier was all animation that day, "I am glad that you could make it on time. I am so excited for the ball."

Elizabeth smiled and looked around, it was a sunny spacious room that felt quite warm for the weather outside. There was no sign of Mr. Darcy. She saw Miss Irene and Lt. Trent talking among themselves in the corner and moved towards the pianoforte where Georgiana was hard at work.

"Are you going to play for us today?" Elizabeth asked her pleasantly.

"Yes," she replied in excitement, "it is going to be wonderful, I hope I do not make any mistakes."

"I am sure you shall not," she smiled at her, "where is Bella?"

"I do not know," Georgiana's soft face became hard immediately. Elizabeth shook her head in exasperation, just then Bella entered the room holding some paper squares, handed them to Ilythia and came towards Elizabeth, took her hand and walked her to stand by one large window.

"Do you see how nobody talks to me," she complained morosely.

"They will in a few days," Elizabeth consoled her.

"No they shall not," she continued in the same vein, "William is the only one who pays me any attention, but he talks seldom so that does not count."

"Where is William?" Miss Collier asked suddenly, "is he not coming?"

"I do not think he would," Georgiana replied flatly.

"Nonsense," Miss Collier scowled, "how can we show you how to dance without him, he is the only man who knows the proper steps in this house."

"And I, of course am just the jester," Mr. Mark mocked.

"You are all right I suppose," Miss Collier said in a matter of fact way, "but nothing to William. I shall go and bring him."

Miss Collier went away leaving a very disgruntled Mr. Mark and a very disconcerted Elizabeth in her wake. The rest of the room just tried not to chuckle too hard at Mr. Mark's offended expression.

"I do not know why Ilythia thinks that no one is any good at anything except Darcy," he complained.

"Because no one is," Miss Irene teased him.

"Oh you just say that because you wanted to marry him not two years ago," Mr. Mark said in annoyance.

"Mark," she cried in indignation and looked at a rather bewildered Lt. Trent in a silent appeal not to trust her brother.

"Well it is true," he huffed.

Rose looked at Elizabeth and God only knew how they stopped themselves from bursting out into helpless giggles in that moment. Just then the door opened and Miss Collier entered with a very reluctant looking Mr. Darcy in tow. One look at him and the ice in Elizabeth's heart started to melt slowly. Her thirsty eyes drank his handsome features in as her gaze rested on his face lovingly. Her resolve to stay away from him turned out to be a house of cards, one little blow and it came tumbling down.

"Oh William," Georgiana cried from her perch at the pianoforte, "I am so glad that you came."

"I do not think that I could be of much use here," he drawled, "Mark knows the dance just as well as I do."

While the ladies protested, Elizabeth tried to quiet down her heartbeat that had accelerated at the sound of his deep voice. She knew that she was not going to be able to survive that day without at least some part of her feelings becoming obvious for everyone to see. She forced herself to look away but her gaze just would not leave his person, whereas he was resolutely avoiding her eyes. She wondered if he was angry at her about something, or maybe he did not want to have anything to do with her and then chided herself for being so silly. _'Why does love always bring so many insecurities with it?' _she thought.

"William and I shall show you the initial few steps of the Waltz with the help of these squares," Miss Colliers pointed towards a paper square placed on the floor. "The first few steps are only going to be performed on this area," she told them.

Everyone nodded and Miss Collier and Mr. Darcy stood on two ends of the square. As Georgiana began the music, he offered her his left hand on which she placed her right one and Mr. Darcy closed his fingers around it as they came closer. Elizabeth felt a surge of jealousy inside when Mr. Darcy's right hand came to rest on Miss Ilythia's left shoulder blade and her left hand rested on his shoulder.

"The posture is very important," she told them in a clear unemotional voice, and Elizabeth wondered at how any woman could remain so composed when a man like Mr. Darcy held her in his arms, "your head must be tilted slightly upwards and your chin should be to the left." She demonstrated her words by showing them how to go about it, Mr. Darcy remained quiet as a statue staring at some far off point above Miss Collier's right shoulder.

"The gentleman is going to lead you into the dance and every step that comes hereafter," she said in her clear voice, "you must accept his lead as that is going to make it easier for you to learn the process."

Elizabeth almost gasped along with Miss Irene and Rose as Mr. Darcy placed his right foot almost between Miss Colliers both feet just as she positioned her right leg between both of his. This was an intimacy in dance that Elizabeth had not anticipated, but there was more to come. Their bodies were very close together, their legs almost touching up to their hips. As the dance progressed and Miss Collier told them which foot to put forward along with how and when to pivot, Elizabeth felt the room become increasingly hotter so that by the end of the dance when Mr. Darcy and his graceful partner turned towards them and bowed, three fans opened in unison as Miss Irene, Rose and Elizabeth fanned their flushed cheeks vigorously.

"Do you understand the mechanics of the dance now," Miss Collier looked meaningfully at the three blushing girls while her twin scowled openly, "or do you want us to demonstrate once again?"

"No indeed," Miss Irene was quick to answer, "we would like to begin practicing now."

"Very well," Miss Collier smiled teasingly, "you can stand up with your partners then and I shall keep correcting you whenever I think that you need to be guided."

Miss Irene was obviously going to partner with Lt. Trent who came and grabbed her hand promptly, and walked her towards the square that was laid the farthest from the others. Mr. Mark stepped closer towards them and asked Rose to stand up with him. Elizabeth by now found it a little difficult to breath as who she was going to partner with became obvious.

"Miss Bennet," Miss Collier read her wary expression to be that of reluctance, "William is an excellent dancer, even though he dislikes the activity in general. He would prove to be a good teacher for you."

Elizabeth smiled halfheartedly as she turned towards the _**excellent dancer **_who in turn kept frowning at something outside the window. She sighed, he really was angry at her about something. She took a few hesitant steps towards him when Bella's comment stopped her in mid stride.

"They shall not make a fitting couple," she argued, "William is too tall for her."

"And you are too wild for your own good," a stern voice said from the door way, "go to your room Bella, you have no business to be here." Bella looked dejectedly at her mother and then ran out of the room.

"The ladies who get tall partners are always the luckiest ones," Mrs. Collier turned towards Elizabeth with a kind smile, "for they have their work cut out for them. You two shall make a wonderful couple."

Mrs. Collier could have no idea of the effect her words had on Elizabeth's insecure heart. She turned towards Mr. Darcy again and this time he did return her gaze, his eyes seemed to be reasserting his Aunt's words, beckoning her to come to him. In a trance she took a step towards him.

"Miss Bennet," he said gravely and forwarded his hand for her to place hers upon.

"Mr. Darcy," she struggled to keep her inner turmoil out of her voice and placed her small hand in the crook of his thumb and index finger. He closed his fingers around her hand in a tight grip, sending an excited shiver through Elizabeth's arm, but that shiver was nothing as compared to the touch of his hand on her back that burned through her clothes all the way to her skin. She placed her hand on his shoulder in a haze as he stationed his foot between both of hers making their legs touch lightly sending jolts of awareness running through her body making her feel hot all over.

For a few minutes at the beginning of the dance, Elizabeth did not know how to react. They had become such good companions in the past few days that it seemed awkward to be dancing together in silence. She wanted to talk to him, to tease him, to ask him about his injury, but felt tongue-tied. If only she had not had that dream, Elizabeth sighed, but what were dreams if not the figments of our subconscious? But what of the visions, her inner voice argued. Elizabeth took a deep breath and decided to forget about the dream that brought her so much misery and kept her away from Mr. Darcy for so many precious moments. The truth was that now that she was with him, the incident of the dream felt more and more insignificant, **he **was the only one that **mattered.**

"Are you not going to instruct me on the dos and don'ts of the Waltz?" She opened the conversation after it became obvious that Mr. Darcy would not say anything. Her heart was forcing her to make him smile, to open herself up to him, to let go of the dreams and relish the reality.

"No," came his clipped answer as he stared above her left shoulder.

"Then how am I supposed to learn?" She tried again, keeping her tone as light as possible, letting go of the remnants of her doubts, thinking only of this man, this wonderful man, who had brought so much joy to her heart.

"By observation," it was indeed impossible to come up with an answer shorter than the one he just gave her.

"I am not a good observer Mr. Darcy," she said looking up at him, willing him to show his lighter side, the side that she loved most in him.

"You are not supposed to look towards me," he chided as his leg moved to the left, taking hers with it and Elizabeth suppressed a smile.

"How am I supposed to observe without looking at you?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief. _'He is rather handsome when in a temper,' _she thought shamelessly.

"You are not supposed to observe my **face**, Miss Bennet," she could see his lips twitch lightly but a smile still was not visible.

"No," she asked innocently, "then whose face am I to observe? You have me at a loss, Mr. Darcy."

"It is not the face that needs to be observed in a Waltz," he replied in exasperation.

"But how on Earth am I supposed to observe your legs, Mr. Darcy," her eyes widened in mock surprise and dismay, "not only is it impossible from my position, it is also highly improper," she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as a slow smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Miss Bennet, I do believe that you are trying to dissuade me from being a good teacher," he now teased her back, "if you end up stepping on your partner's feet, I shall take no credit for it."

"Oh do not worry about that, Mr. Darcy," she chuckled, "I shall be so charming during the dance that my partner would not even notice that his feet have been fractured through the course of it."

"Indeed," he eyed her suspiciously and then said in a dry manner, "it would take either a very besotted or a thoroughly inebriated gentleman to not notice such a calamity."

"And you think that I am incapable of acquiring such a partner?" She looked indignantly at him, "indeed you underestimate me, grossly, sir."

"You shall do no such thing Miss Bennet," he said sternly, increasing his grip on her hand, and Elizabeth felt that he probably was not joking this time.

"I shall do as I please," she said playfully, "and choose a partner who fulfills both the aforementioned qualities."

"I forbid it," he jerked her closer, "no such partner for you, Miss Bennet."

"You are too overbearing Mr. Darcy," she smiled impishly at him, as she reveled in the feel of his hard chest close to hers.

"I thought you had changed your opinion about me," he looked archly at her and stepped around her to do a full rotation as she moved with him.

"Everyone is allowed one fault, Mr. Darcy," she shrugged her shoulders not caring if he had a thousand flaws, "if mine is being stubborn then yours is being domineering."

"You sure know how to turn a man's head with your pretty compliments, Miss Bennet," he mimicked her words from a few days ago and Elizabeth threw back her head and laughed.

"This is a wrong posture for the Waltz Miss Bennet," he told her sternly, but her heart was now at ease, he was still trying to be strict but she knew that his anger had largely fled away.

"Your cousin was right," she teased him, she loved to tease him, "we do not make a fitting couple, you are too tall for me, Mr. Darcy."

"And so was my Aunt," he replied dryly, "for I am doing all the work in this dance," he said as he stepped forwards and she stepped backwards to keep up with him, "making you the luckiest woman in the world."

"Such conceit, Mr. Darcy," she teased him again, but her heart acknowledged the truth of his remark, having loved him had indeed made her the luckiest woman in the world.

"You said one fault, and now you have added another," he mocked, "by the time this dance comes to an end, I wonder how long the list of my failings would be?"

"No matter how long it is, Mr. Darcy," she tilted her head up at him, her eyes glittering with mischief, "it can never be as long as you."

"As **long** as me?" He raised an eyebrow, "I see that you need a lesson in dance as well as adjectives."

"I am willing to learn if you are ready to teach," she looked expressively at him, her eyes admitting to all that she felt.

"Then learn this, Miss Bennet," he stepped backwards taking her with him, "that I am not a teacher," they rotated, "who lets his students go," Mr. Darcy stepped into her place and she moved to his, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, "without imparting all the knowledge, and obtaining a heavy fees."

"And what would your fees be for this particular lesson?" Elizabeth felt exhilarated at his nearness and their wordplay.

"A return to our daily routine of meeting in the woods for a walk in the morning," he looked into her eyes as if challenging her to defy him.

"And you think that I would not be amenable to this?" She looked archly at him and saw his brows knit in confusion, "that just goes to show how little you know women in general, Mr. Darcy, and me in particular," she finished by giving him her most bewitching smile as her eyes flashed with mirth at his response.

"How is your arm Mr. Darcy?" She asked him after a while, as he led them backwards then sideways and then forwards as she looked down at where their bodies met at her torso. There was something oddly familiar about being this close to him.

"It is healed now," he replied in a tight voice rotating the other way, "you should have asked me this question two days earlier."

_**'… I came two days earlier…' someone said near her ear**_

"I…," she gulped, why did she always had a flashback when Mr. Darcy was around? "I have had a pretty persistent headache for the last few days," she tried to give him the same excuse that she had used on Georgiana.

"Look up Miss Bennet," he ignored her reply and said in a stern voice, "turn your chin away from me a little."

_**'I need to see you Elizabeth…turn towards me…' the voice whispered again**_

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, as her body lost some of its rigidity, and prayed really hard for the flashback to stop.

"Are you angry at me Mr. Darcy?" She opened her eyes and asked him uncertainly. It was then that he looked down towards her and his deep blue eyes softened to a milder shade.

"Did you not want to see me," He asked with feeling as his hand traveled a little lower down her back and pressed her towards himself possessively, "as much as I wanted to see you?"

_**'Do you want me Elizabeth…as much as I want you?' another voice demanded her attention**_

"I did," she whispered, her head beginning to reel with the questions of reality and those of the reminiscence, "but my dreams," her voice broke a little as she looked at him in mute appeal, "my dreams made me miserable."

"Do you never dream of me," she was slowly losing her connection with reality as he asked in a soft low voice dipping his head a little closer to hers, "of us?"

_**'Do you ever dream of my lips… devouring yours?' the intimacy in the voice was making her legs go weak…**_

Elizabeth's head lolled forward, as the voices in her head grew stronger, and rested on Mr. Darcy's chest, she could barely move now, she could only float, or at least that was what it felt like to her in that moment.

_**'Have you ever craved the sensation of feeling my body against yours…' strong arms folded around her in a crushing embrace**_

"Miss Bennet?" Mr. Darcy's voice came from somewhere far away, but was effective in pulling her back into the realm of reality, "are you having a flashback again?"

She looked up with difficulty, and his worried countenance warmed her heart, giving her strength. She could feel herself being pulled back into the vision but she resisted with all that she was as she gripped his hand tightly and nodded.

"Would you like to sit down?" he asked again, as he held her firmly and close to himself. Her grip on his shoulder increased as she shook her head, being parted from him right now was the last thing she wanted.

"You ought to sit down, Miss Bennet," he said firmly, "you can scarcely move."

"That is probably because you are holding me so that my feet are barely touching the ground," she looked up to see him blush and then lower her to the ground, "let me, stay where I am Mr. Darcy," she said as her head came to rest on the side of his arm, "there is nowhere else I would rather be."

She felt him stiffen up for a moment before he pressed her to himself, his strong legs so near her own, the comfort of his arm around her and the grip of his hand on hers. Surely this was heaven, surely she could not have felt this way for anyone before, surely he was the sole owner of her heart. She shoved the aftereffects of the vision far back into her mind and smiled up at Mr. Darcy, the only man she had ever loved.

…**.**

Darcy spotted Elizabeth standing in a corner, staring outside a window at the pelting rain and moved to stand behind her. The morning had been sunny, but as time progressed, dark clouds gathered outside and now it rained heavily. Izzie had forced them to take a few refreshments before continuing on to the next sequence.

Darcy thought about their dance together and almost smiled at how easily Elizabeth had done away with his annoyance at her absence. But then he frowned, he had started to get a little impatient with Elizabeth's flashbacks. _'What is the use, if she cannot even see me in them,' _he thought irritably when he remembered the one she had just had in his arms. **In his arms, **he lightened up once more as he approached her. She had been happy in his arms, had she not? She could be happy with him, they could be happy together, he decided to forget about her memories and somehow ask her the all important question, but not while her thoughts were all in a jumble because of her memories, he would give her time, just a little more time.

"You seem quite deep in thought for such a lighthearted occasion as a ball," he said from above her shoulder as his eyes lingered on her beautiful neck exposed to his gaze since she had piled her hair quite high on her head for a change.

"I was thinking of the Netherfield ball," she replied without turning around.

"Were you?" He frowned, memorable as it was, it was not something that he wanted to remember right now. He only wanted to think of the pleasant moments that they shared, but unfortunately, she did not remember even the most important ones.

"It has been only a year since then," she turned around and faced him now, "and yet, I feel as though I have changed a lot since that day."

"How so?" He raised an eyebrow, "you do not seem much changed to me. You are still the same vivacious and witty woman that I knew you to be back then."

"Oh that," she dismissed his words, "perhaps I have not changed so much in basics, but my perspective, on certain things, has surely altered, as has yours, I suppose."

"As has mine," he conceded easily. He was not the arrogant man that he was last November, who assessed people through their social standing, he had learnt to look beyond the obvious and into the deep. "For the better I hope," he sipped his tea and studied her face carefully, maybe she meant her opinion about him when she said that her perspective on certain things had changed.

"For the better," she drained her own tea, placed the cup on a table and smiled up at him, "I am sure."

"Let us go upstairs and practice again," he said on an impulse, wanting desperately to be alone with her.

"But everyone is still drinking their tea," she protested. _'My point exactly,' _he thought.

"Then they can come whenever they are finished with it," he was quick to suggest, _' hang every one.'_

"How can we practice without music," she argued again.

"Ilythia is still upstairs, playing," he rolled his eyes at her persistence, "have you not noticed?"

"But…," he held up his hand and stopped her from what ever she was about to say.

"Come Miss Bennet," he said dryly, "you, arguing with me at every turn, does not bode well for our future."

She blushed adorably then and quietly followed him out the door. On their way to the practice room, he captured her hand and she did not protest so he interlaced their fingers and she still did not say a word. Elizabeth and Darcy entered the room where Ilythia was playing in abandon, unaware if anyone was there or not, she obviously had **someone** on her mind.

He walked Elizabeth to the farthest corner of the room as they took position once again, he wanted to show her how to Waltz when no one was watching, closely, intimately.

"Jane has arrived back," Elizabeth took the lead in conversation as he did in the dance.

"And how are Mr. and Mrs. Bingley?" He asked fondly about the couple that he truly esteemed.

"Happy," she said smiling, "but tired. They shall be staying at London for a while before going back to Hertfordshire."

"The weather in town must be quite harsh at this time of the year," he said placidly, "it is advantageous that Torquay's climate is so mild in winters."

"Yes the town must be quite chilly at this time of the year," she agreed, "but nothing to Derbyshire I am sure. Do you often spend your winters elsewhere Mr. Darcy?"

"No," he replied, thinking of the beautiful grounds of Pemberley covered in snow, "I quite prefer it in winters," and then a thought struck him, "would you rather be somewhere else when it snows?" Elizabeth looked confused for a moment before her cheeks flamed at his allusion.

"I prefer to stay at home, whenever the weather is harshest, be it winter or summer," she told him as they pivoted and after her face was restored to its normal complexion, "for that is where you are most comfortable whenever the weather misbehaves."

"So you do not care for spending the season in the town?" He asked hoping that she would say no, for he had no interest in it and he would dearly love for his wife to agree with him on this.

"I do not know," she frowned and shifted her wait from one foot to the other, "I shall like it I suppose as I do have a partiality for meeting new people and experiencing new things." _'Well it would not be Elizabeth,' _he sighed and thought, _'if she agreed to everything I said.'_

"I do not care for it," he told her mildly.

"But then you do not like meeting new people much," she analyzed thoughtfully, "and the experiences can hardly be called new, for you."

"But I never really warmed up to the **experiences, **as you call them," he argued taking a step forward, "balls and soirees never held any attraction for me."

"Is it because you find it difficult or because you find it unnecessary?" She looked archly at him now.

"A bit of both I suppose," he conceded a little sheepishly wondering if she would hold this against him.

"You were not amenable to such schemes when we first met," she said and he knew that she was thinking of the Meryton Assembly and the Netherfield ball once again.

"I was many things that I am not anymore, when we first met," he said somewhat petulantly, "those were not my finest moments, I assure you."

"I can see that if nothing else," she teased him with eyes spilling with mirth, "at least your conversational skills during a dance have improved immensely." Darcy groaned, making her giggle.

"Can we not forget about my prowess at conversation and concentrate on my expertise in dance?" He pleaded playfully, showing his skill by expertly rotating her.

"If you want a pretty compliment Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth looked impertinently at him, "then I shall tell you that you are indeed a divine dancer." Darcy sucked in a breath as words from Bingley's letter came to his mind, she had praised him in the very same words five months ago as well.

"Was the first lesson of any help?" He asked as he pulled her closer than the necessities of the dance demanded.

"No," she said flatly without looking at him as he moved her stealthily in the next rotation.

"Why ever not?" Darcy frowned at her head, "I instructed tolerably well I suppose."

"Yes," she agreed, "but I was of no mind to learn," she looked towards him, her dark eyes dancing and tilted her head playfully at him, "I am afraid that you shall have to lead me into the dance at the ball, and then guide me to the best of your ability, again."

"If this is your way of trying to secure my hand in a dance for the upcoming ball," he said mischievously and observed the colour rise up in her cheeks, "then I shall have to tell you that a man likes to do the asking."

"Then why does he not?" She asked, looking at the buttons of his coat, her long dark lashes clashing with her beautiful pearly skin that Darcy longed to touch. Her leg was rubbing rather enticingly against his at every twist and turn and the image of how her legs had looked at the beach was making him rub his own against them lightly.

"Maybe he is not sure of his acceptance?" He looked pointedly at her now, willing her to understand the real question behind the purported one. He felt her breath becoming laboured and could not stop his eyes to fall to her neckline but immediately regretted it. That sight was not one to help him keep his senses in some semblance of order.

"Why is he not sure?" She asked softly, looking up at him with eyes that shone at every turn, "has the woman given him cause to doubt her answer?"

Darcy's grip tightened almost unconsciously on her, without realizing what he was doing, his hand moved from her hand to her shoulder as he pulled her into his arms.

"She does seem unsure at times," he whispered, as his head dipped closer to hers and he inhaled the lavender on her.

"Perhaps those times have passed," her hands came to rest on his chest and she lowered her eyes somewhat shyly and Darcy's heart raced uncontrollably, "long ago, never to come back."

"Do you promise?" He asked hardly breathing.

She looked up and her promise was in the depths of her eyes, he needed no words. Words were only going to dampen this precious moment with **his Elizabeth** when she as good as said yes to him. _'Oh darling,' _he told her with his eyes, _'how I wish to kiss you.' _His eyes dropped to her lips, and she blushed once again. Darcy pulled her closer still, so that they touched all over as they swayed lightly to the beautiful music that Ilythia's fingers were creating. Darcy knew that their posture was all wrong for Waltz, but he did not care, who could care for a mere dance when the woman you loved fit so perfectly in your arms, swayed so enticingly on the rhythm and smiled so beautiful at you? He could not believe that after so much pain and misery, God had decided to give him his heart's desire, once again. _'Elizabeth,' _his eyes remained fastened to her face for the rest of the evening as he determined once again to propose to her. But not just yet for he wanted her to be completely sure, this chance was too cherished to be used lightly, after all his whole life's happiness was at risk.

…**.**

Mrs. Isabel Collier took the two urgent messages that the servant held out to her on a silver platter and walked up the stairs somewhat tiredly. She looked down at the messages and they both bore the same name, one in a neat secretarial hand, and the other in a clumsy, blot ridden style, both were from London.

She reached the practice room and opened the door, her eyes first fell on her beautiful daughter, playing the keys with fervor, her eyes closed to the rest of the world, her thoughts only of the man she loved. She sighed and turned her eyes towards the couple in the corner, supposedly practicing the Waltz.

It could not be called anything but a lover's embrace. The man tall and graceful, held the beautiful little pixie in a gentle grip, his strong arms embracing her possessively, his striking blue eyes worshiping her face. The woman had her delicate hands on his chest, clutching the lapels of his coat as if she could not support herself otherwise, her dark expressive eyes revealed all that must be in her heart as they remained affixed to the one she undoubtedly loved.

Never in her one and fifty years had Isabel seen love so poignant, it brought tears to her ever dry eyes, and touched a cord deep within her time hardened heart. She looked down at the two urgent messages in her hands and then at the heartbreaking picture the two lovers presented and decided to give them a few more hours before the inevitable separation that they would have to endure.

**Next Chapter: To London He Went**

**A/N: I would like to clear the confusion that some people had about the tree in the previous chapter. Well when Elizabeth asks Darcy if the tree was an alder, her mind is still trapped in her memory and the sketch but Mr. Darcy's mind is trapped in how to get her back into his arms (understandably), so when she asks him about it, he answers without paying much mind to which tree she is talking about. Ergo, Elizabeth remembers correctly but Darcy answers wrongly due to absence of mind and heightened awareness of her…ahem…innumerable charms.**


	35. Chapter 35

**Memory Reference: Chapter 18, The scene in the Portrait gallery, Darcy's POV.**

**Chapter 21, the last few minutes of the scene in the woods near Longbourn, Darcy's POV.**

**Chapter 35: To London He Went**

Both Elizabeth and Rose went back to Sleighton Manor on a carriage that to them, seemed to be floating through clouds. If the young women were to be questioned about the dance which was their aim to learn at the start of the day, they would not have been able to recall a single detail about the steps, the pivots and the rotations. Although they might have been able to enlighten the questioner on the subject of their partner's eye colour and shoulder width, and also on how tightly he held their hand or exactly where his hand stayed the longest on their backs, for that particular place probably still tingled.

"How did your lesson at Waltz go today?" The Admiral asked at the dinner table. Elizabeth quickly busied herself in cutting her steak with unparalleled diligence as for the life of her she could not remember anything but how Mr. Darcy's eyes had kept her enthralled throughout the _'lesson'._

"Oh it was splendid Papa," Rose replied quickly, which was, Elizabeth realized, her first mistake, for she had obviously encouraged the Admiral to ask more questions. It would have been a lot more favourable to them both if she had disparaged the dance thoroughly.

"Well," the Admiral took a sip of his port, "go on, tell me about it. What steps, what twists and turns, what makes it so different from the good old reel we had in my time?"

"Err…," Rose turned towards Elizabeth for assistance, but she was resolutely staring at her knife that was carving through the steak. "The steps were quite…um…brilliant, to be sure," she croaked out, not having any clue, Elizabeth suspected, about what exactly was so brilliant about them.

"Go on," the admiral took a large bite of his steak.

"Well err… the…the," Elizabeth here took pity on Rose and chimed in to help her as much as she could.

"The pivot," she coughed.

"Yes," Rose breathed a sigh of relief, "the pivot, was an exceptional step, Papa."

"How so?" Admiral Trent asked and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, _'what has gotten into him,' _she thought.

"Because you pivot…err…around in it, at a…ahem…delightful angle," Elizabeth came to Rose's rescue with an answer that was lame as it was wrong, but the Admiral's sudden bout of curiosity had to be satisfied somehow.

"Indeed," Mrs. Trent said placidly, "all this talk about pivoting around, and twisting and turning is giving me a headache."

Elizabeth blinked, for no one had said anything about twisting and turning, indeed she did not even remember doing any such thing, but maybe that was because Mr. Darcy had held her so close to him that the only thing she could do was breathe. It was when she noticed Rose smiling gratefully at her mother that she realized that Mrs. Trent was only trying to save them from further inquisition at the hand of her husband.

After dinner, Elizabeth went to Rose's room to have a chat about Mr. Darcy, but ended up discussing only Mr. Mark and his various amiable qualities. Rose had suddenly realized that he was a most gracious host, an expert archer and an unparalleled dancer, and that his various qualities were something that she needed to go into detail with her friend.

A very tired Elizabeth, who obviously thought Mr. Darcy a much more worthy specimen of human excellence, came out of Rose's room yawning, and entered her own ready to sleep quickly. But as she changed into her night dress, Mr. Darcy once again materialized in her mind making it impossible for her to do anything but think about him.

She inattentively brushed her hair and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Mr. Darcy had told her that she had_ 'remarkably expressive eyes'_ and she wondered now if he had been able to read their _'expression' _today. For today her heart had been in her eyes, beating on the rhythm of the love that floated all around her, making her unable to hide how she felt.

She placed the hair brush back in its place and walked to the bed to give herself up to the oblivion of sleep. As she slipped under the covers, Mr. Darcy's voice whispered in her ear,

**"Do you never dream of me," **he had asked, **"of us?"**

Elizabeth's breath hitched as she remembered his words, she had not been able to savor their depth then, because of the flashback, but she was free to do it now and that was exactly what she intended to do. He had been angry at her for not coming to see him and rightfully so, for she should have gone and would have too if it were not for the wretched dream that scared her so much that she broke all contact with him until she was sure of what had happened in her past.

But his words and actions of today had made her forget for a while that she had a past that was shrouded in mystery. She recalled his face to mind as he had looked when she had told him that _'there was nowhere else she would rather be'. _For a brief moment she had felt that he would embrace her fully in front of everyone present, but then he had restrained himself to just holding her tightly.

Elizabeth turned on her side as she thought of his hands on her hand and back, of his arms around her shoulders and a sense of safety and security enveloped her completely. And even though she had experienced his gentle hold turning into a possessive grip and his kind gaze turning into an intense stare, she knew that being near Mr. Darcy was now synonymous to being comforted, to being cared for.

Her mind drifted off to their playful banter that was much more than mere wordplay. He had talked about asking for her hand in a dance, but she was sure that he had quite another question in his mind. She felt thrilled and exhilarated at how close she had now come to getting her heart's desire, she was sure that some day soon, she shall come back from those trees an engaged woman.

Her whole body trembled with the sudden flutter in her heart at the thought of spending the rest of her life with Mr. Darcy. She turned again, this time to her right and contemplated the joy that their union could bring to her and hopefully, to him as well. It was true that their natures and characters were not as alike as Jane and Mr. Bingley's were, but that only added to the charm. She loved to argue and he had proven himself quite the master of wordplay, for someone who rarely opened his mouth. Elizabeth smiled at the brief argument they had had about spending the season in town, he had made it clear that he had no enjoyment in such pursuits and preferred the peace and quiet of Pemberley to the various activities a London season boasted of, and she herself in turn had expressed a desire to indulge in such like for she had always loved to interact with people and had a deep love for dancing. But that had not dampened their moods, they had still been agreeable towards each other.

They were not afraid to express their true feelings in front of one another, indeed real understanding was not bending to the will of your spouse, but respecting their views and opinions, and Mr. Darcy had always lent her an ear whenever she had wanted to air her judgment on something. He had been accommodating and considerate but had never tried to please her by agreeing to whatever she stated and that was how she had always wanted her life partner to be, someone who could hold their own against her challenging manner, and Mr. Darcy was just such a man. But that did not mean that she was not ready to make any compromises for their mutual happiness, she did not, nay, could not care about a London season that meant having Mr. Darcy feel ill at ease among strangers. Indeed, she might not share his views but that did not mean that she could similarly not share his wishes, for what else was marriage if not sharing?

Unable to sleep, she got up and walked to the dressing room, opened the cupboard and took out the yellow dress she wore today. As she held it to her nose, she could almost smell him on her dress, Elizabeth inhaled deeply and then shut the door and walked back to the room, taking a chair by the window. She remembered how he had possessively jerked her towards himself when she had teased him about dancing with someone besotted with her, and a tremor ran up and down her body.

His nearness had always had that effect on her, she could never keep a straight head on her shoulders whenever he had touched her. It was because she felt so deeply about him that he could stir her passion so, it was because her heart beat in tune with his that she could feel it against her own chest today, it was because she had no control over her emotions that she likewise could not direct the way her body reacted to him.

She closed her eyes and imagined the sensation of how his lips would feel on hers.

_**'…I want to taste you…' someone whispered near her ear as he captured and recaptured her lips in his own**_

Elizabeth gasped and sat up, her heart was beating erratically. She could have sworn that it was Mr. Darcy who kissed her just now but the thought of that other man, brought her down from the clouds she had been perched upon. She sighed and decided not to sleep that night, for sleep meant being away from the thoughts of Mr. Darcy, and she was at that stage of love in that moment which did not allow her to be parted from him, even in dreams.

…

A restless and tired Elizabeth roamed the grounds of Sleighton Manor, thinking and rethinking on how her life had changed in the course of a few weeks till the first light began to lighten up the sky, colouring it with the shades of dawn. She shivered lightly and pulled her coat together. She would have to go inside soon, before the servants woke up and found her in her night dress, not that it showed under the coat she was wearing, but it was obviously understood.

She sighed and sat upon the swing, her toes moving to push it forwards and backwards. She was unaware of how long she sat there when it seemed as though a carriage was passing by, but she ignored it as the imaginations of her tired mind till suddenly a familiar yelp startled her.

"Sir Wuf?" She jumped off the swing and turned around to find the pup running towards her, "what are you doing here on your own at this time, you little fur ball?" She asked as she caught it in her arms.

"Sir Wuf came with me," informed a voice whose owner had been the reason for her sleeplessness.

"Mr. Darcy," she cried nearly dropping the 'fur ball' in the process, her heart thudding loud enough to wake the whole neighbourhood, "what brings you here so early in the day?"

"I…Miss Bennet, I…I did not expect to find anyone awake at this time of the day," he appeared ill at ease. Elizabeth looked carefully at him and discovered that he was in a traveling attire. _'Can he be going somewhere?' _She wondered.

"I could not sleep," she told him simply as Sir Wuf jumped off her arms and started circling Mr. Darcy's feet.

"Neither could I," he looked at her and his eyes were not half as bright as they were the previous day as they had refused to part from her face, Elizabeth could feel that something was bothering him.

"What is it Mr. Darcy?" She asked stepping closer to him, "are you going somewhere?"

"Miss Bennet," he took a step closer to her as well, "do you remember how you asked me one day on our walk that **if I have ever felt like some unseen force is pulling me back, when all I want to do is move ahead and leave all that has been, behind?"** Elizabeth nodded, looking at him in confusion. "That day my answer had been in negative," he raked his hand through his hair in obvious anxiety, "but if you were to ask me that again, Miss Bennet, my answer would be the opposite of what I professed that day."

"Mr. Darcy," she looked helplessly at him, wanting so much to help, but not knowing how to go about it, "won't you sit down, should I order some tea for you?"

"No," he took a deep breath and straightened himself, "I am to leave immediately. Urgent business calls me to town."

"To Torquay?" Elizabeth blinked at him, _'surely he cannot mean London.'_

"To London," his voice dipped low as he stared at the horizon, "I do not have even a moment to lose," he then turned towards her, "but I could not leave without…," here he faltered and stopped before he continued in a much composed manner, "I have come to take any letter that you might like to send to your family, to Mrs. Bingley, for I shall meet them in town."

"You…you are leaving?" She asked in disbelief, her heartbeat dropped to a slow painful pace.

"Yes," he averted his eyes.

"Right this moment?" She asked again, willing him to deny but he merely nodded without looking at her.

"But…," she could not go on, for how could she tell him that he could not go because she would not be able to live without him.

"The letter, Miss Bennet?" He asked her again, looking disconsolately at her.

"Yes, the letter," she repeated slowly, "I wrote it just last night, when I could not sleep. I shall go fetch it right now." She was about to turn away when a hand, his hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned her sorrowful eyes towards him and saw the turmoil in his blue ones.

"I…I do not want to go," he blurted out, his sad eyes begging her to understand.

"Then do not," she pleaded, "you hate town," she said petulantly and he smiled for the first time that day, but it was not the smile she had come to love, it was a tired smile, that bespoke the unrest of his thoughts.

"And you hate to ride on horseback," he said calmly, "but if the matter was as important as someone's life, would you not do it?"

"Are you going to town to save someone's life?" She asked quickly.

"You could say that," he sighed. Elizabeth looked thoughtfully at him, Mr. Darcy looked so distraught and strained, he obviously did not want to go, and he had come to meet her before leaving, maybe to regain some of his spirits from their witty banter, and here she was sulking and pouting. She straightened her shoulders and decided to send him off with smiles that would make it impossible for him to stay away for too long.

"Is it a damsel in distress?" She teased tilting her head to one side, "for I would not even dream of stopping you from such heroic acts."

"Then what would you dream of?" His eyes brightened up a little and his features relaxed.

"I do not know," she replied smiling, "I have no control over my dreams."

"But you do have a firm control on your life," he looked meaningfully at her.

"If I had any control over my life I would not be standing here asking you not to leave," she said vehemently.

"Then what would you be doing?" He asked somewhat surprised.

"I would be standing here **telling **you not to go," she blurted out before she could stop herself and then crimsoned over.

"Do you think I can be governed thus?" he asked looking at her in interest.

"Not for a moment," she looked up after recovering from her embarrassment and her eyes danced with mirth, "but that fact cannot deter me from trying." He smiled with her then, a real smile this time. Elizabeth was satisfied.

"I must not detain you any longer, I shall go and fetch the letter now." He nodded and Elizabeth walked quickly towards the house.

Her mind was in great turmoil as she reached her room and looked for the letter among the papers on the small writing desk in the corner. Suddenly she could not stand any longer and dropped heavily on the chair, her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. He was leaving, for something important as well as urgent, but still, he was leaving. She felt all alone, as if she had no one in the world except him and now he was going away.

Her eyes stung with a feeling of loss. She wondered if he would come back, now. What if he did not come back, what if she never saw him again, was he going to leave her after making her love him so hopelessly? Her hand trembled as it took hold of the letter she had written to Jane.

Elizabeth took deep calming breaths as she made her way back to the lawn. Try as she might, she could not act the part of a cheerful person right now, how could she be happy about the fact that he was going far away from her. But he must not know how disappointed she was that he was leaving just as she had realized her feelings for him for it would do none of them any good.

She gave him the letter and made him a promise, a promise that she would wait for him. Her cheek still tingled from where his hand had rested, where his thumb had trailed for the merest of seconds, and precious as the touch was it still was not enough for a heart so deeply in love. As the sound of the horses' hooves faded, Elizabeth took dejected steps towards the house and threw herself on her bed once she reached her room.

A tear took life behind her closed eyes, slipped through their closed confines and disappeared into her pillow. She knew that he would come back, of course he would come back, was it not only a few days ago that she had told him that _'she trusted him completely and unquestionably'? _But this separation could not have come at a worst time, for she had made up her mind to become his and forget about her past, if all had gone well, she might have become his fiancée before the end of this week but now she would not even be able to see him for a week or perhaps even longer. She wiped the remnants of that lone tear off her eyes and closed them tiredly, sleep claiming her at last.

_**'…The next time we meet…I will truly be your fiancée…' she said to someone in the distance, sheer joy making her face glow in the blurred ambiance of the dream, but then something happened…something agonizing…as if her head had suddenly caught fire…and there was nothing she could do about**_ _**it…**_

For the first time after her accident, for the first time in all her life, Elizabeth woke up screaming in excruciating pain, her hands clutching her head desperately, not knowing what had caused the ache in the now healed scar of her wound.

…**..**

"You seem content," Izzie told him as he stood by the window of the practice room even after everyone had departed.

"And not happy?" Darcy asked with a smile as he turned towards his Aunt.

"You never laugh and rarely smile," she teased, "how is one to know if you are happy or not?"

"I am sure one could find the proof if one looked really carefully for the signs," he said mildly and then looked down towards her hand, "what do you have in your hand."

"These messages arrived for you this evening," she held the two envelopes out for him to take, "they are both urgent."

"Then why did you not give them to me immediately," Darcy took the envelopes from her hands and looked at them carefully.

"I did not want to disturb you," she said meaningfully as Darcy coloured lightly, "I shall leave you now to read these in peace." Izzie told him and exited the room quickly.

Darcy opened the letter from her Aunt Myrtle's companion Mrs. Boon first.

_Mr. Darcy._

_This is to inform you that your great aunt Mrs. Myrtle Mary Formby has asked for your presence at the incident of the bequeathing of her assets. She is of the opinion that she would not be surviving her illness for more than a week and has subsequently refused all medication. She requests your presence in town urgently._

_Yours truly,_

_Mrs. Mildred Boon_

Darcy cursed under his breath. It was the fourth time in the past year that old Myrtle had summoned him on a fool's errand. _'Stopped taking her medication indeed',_ he fumed. She was quite healthy for her age, and she only liked to summon him now and again so she could annoy him with her schemes of how he should run Thornbury after she was dead when he did not even want the estate in the first place. He could not believe that he would have to travel all the way to London, only to come back without any significant occurrence except that Aunt Myrtle would decide that this was not the week she was supposed to die and would start taking her medicine again.

He huffed and tore open the other message wondering what on Earth Bingley had to communicate to him that could be so urgent.

_(blot) Darcy,_

_I am in (blot) need of your (blot)istance. That (blot) Wickham, who everybody at (blot)fordshire thought so highly of, has turned out to be the (blot) kind of blackguard. He somehow (blot)vinced Miss Lydia to elope with him. She has been missing for two (blot)s now, they have been traced as (blot) as London with no (blot) of ever to have traveled to (blot)na Green._

_My (blot), you know that the Bennet family has no (blot) to tempt him to do the decent (blot) by Miss Lydia. I fear the (blot). In this (blot) picture, you are the only (blot) of hope since you have known him for a long (blot). I therefore (blot) for any information that you can provide._

_I have come to (blot) out that Miss Elizabeth is also (blot)ing in the same (blot)ity as you, Mrs. Bingley (blot)s you therefore, not to (blot) anything of the above (blot)tioned account to her, for we do not want to unnecessarily (blot) her. I cannot (blot)size how desperately my (blot) family needs your services right now. Hoping to (blot) from you soon._

_Yours truly,_

_Charles (blot)ley_

Darcy hardly knew how to react. Miss Lydia had eloped with Wickham, his mind reeled from the horrific truth. He found it difficult to fathom how such dealings came to pass when they were not even living in the same neighbourhood. He sat down on a nearby chair as he contemplated what the ramifications of the thoughtless actions of Miss Lydia would be on her family's reputation.

Darcy would not have been human if he had not looked upon the whole scenario in utter disgust for a few moments at least, for the lack of principles in one and the lack of judgment in the other. But then the moment passed and he similarly went through a moment of shame, after all, his own sister had been just as thoughtless as the unfortunate Miss Lydia. He got up and roamed the now empty practice room, his sister was fortunate enough to have him to protect her, but who did Miss Lydia have?

The fact that the Bennets had no money, made the situation even more dire as that just highlighted the fact that Wickham could not possibly have any serious intentions towards Miss Lydia. The Gardiners, generous and well settled as they were, could not have the means to buy the consent of Wickham to the marriage between the two renegades, nor could they cower him into submitting to their will. It seemed a hopeless situation, no matter which way one looked at it. If the scandal came to light, it would ruin the Bennets, opening them up to the censure of the community, degrading them in the eyes if their neighbours.

Darcy stopped near the square which they had practiced upon and thought of Elizabeth, her confidently smiling lips pursed with embarrassment, her witty rejoinders silenced by a sense of shame, her poisedhead bowed in disgrace and he quickly got up. The thought of Elizabeth's humiliation in something that she bore no fault for was enough to spurn him into action.

His decision made, he quickly went to his room, ordering his valet to prepare for a long journey and then went out to inform the rest of the house. He first went to Georgiana but decided not to enlighten her on the horrible proof of licentiousness that had come to light about Wickham. He simply told everyone including his sister that he had to go to London on a request from Aunt Myrtle.

Dinner ended with everyone lamenting his untimely departure just when the Christmas ball was less than three weeks away, but since there was nothing to it, therefore everyone repaired to their chambers with heavy hearts, the heaviest being Darcy's. He stayed up all night going over what he had thought to do on the day that was fast approaching and what he was going to do on that same day. He had made up his mind to ask Elizabeth to marry him soon, after her fluttering lashes and trembling body had convinced him that she was not as unaffected by him as he had previously thought her to be. But now it was more important for another marriage to come about before theirs could.

But surely he could not leave without saying anything to her so he decided to pay her an early morning visit on the pretext of carrying a letter for Mrs. Bingley. _'Yes,' _he thought satisfied, _'that is as good an excuse as any.'_

…**.**

All too soon Elizabeth appeared in the now fast emerging morning, holding a letter out for him to take. He took it from her hand and deposited it into an inner pocket of his coat.

"It is not sealed," she said somewhat dully, "but I trust you shall not read it." Darcy observed that although she was trying to be pleasant her previous teasing mood had vanished somehow.

"Your trust in me does me great honour, Miss Bennet," he said gravely, not wanting to leave her, trying to extend these few moments of bliss into an eternity.

"When will you be back?" She asked trying to smile. Darcy stared into her eyes and found his discontent at this abrupt and untimely separation mirrored there.

"Will you wait for me?" He asked in almost a whisper, stepping closer, desperately needing some reassurance that she would wait for him no matter what.

"Will you come back?" She asked in turn, her smile disappearing, getting replaced by a frown. _'Teasing Elizabeth,' _he thought, _'why can she not give a straight answer?'_

"How can I not?" He replied simply, for indeed how could a heart committed, as much as his was to her, not come back to the object of its desire.

"When?" She asked again, her voice shook a bit in doubt.

"Soon," he sighed, not wanting to promise a date that he would not be able to keep.

"Will you come sooner if I promise to wait for you?" She teased him, once again.

"I will breathe easier," he told her earnestly, and saw her blush, "so will you wait?"

"It is not a choice Mr. Darcy," she smiled sadly at him and his heart almost burst with joy. His hand rose of its own accord and cupped her cheek, he watched, mesmerized as Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment and when they opened, the fire in them rivaled that of the rising sun.

"No," he agreed softly as his thumb traced her deliciously soft skin, "it is not. But even if it were, I would have chosen this," he told her tenderly. _'I would have chosen you,' _his eyes admitted.

She sucked in a breath and he dropped his hand reluctantly. It was time for him to move away from her, or he might never have the will to. He bowed and walked after a running Sir Wuf, stopping only when he reached the gates of Sleighton Manor. He turned towards the lawn and saw Elizabeth standing alone in the vast lawn, looking pensively at him and his heart broke apart. They were so close to coming to an understanding once again, only to be divided by Wickham.

Darcy touched his hat as Elizabeth tried to force a smile, and then he was inside the carriage bounded towards London with an excited Sir Wuf peeping out the window, standing on his hind legs, on the first real journey of his life.

As the landscape took new shapes and forms so did Darcy's thoughts. He stared at the peacefully sleeping Sir Wuf who had decided to give sleep a try after staying cooped up in the closed carriage. He wondered what Elizabeth must be doing as it grew darker outside.

He wondered if she would she be missing him like he was missing her, a slow ache burning through him.

**"Did you wait for me?" he had asked and,**

**"I always do," she had replied.**

Darcy's heart raced at the recollection of that moment. He wanted to be sure of her regard before plunging too deeply into dreams of a future with her. But sometimes surety does not come from encouraging words, sometimes it comes from within.

For Darcy this was just such a time. From the dinner at Brookridge Hall to the excursion at the beach, from the day of the archery competition to the day of the Waltz practice, his life seemed to be full of encouraging looks and heartening gestures. Had she not willingly fallen into the custom of meeting him in the woods, was there nothing in the way she blushed around him, could he extract no hope from the often uttered small sentences that showed him how little by little she had been warming up to him?

Yes, she had given him reasons aplenty to be hopeful this time. Undeniably, they had all but confessed their love for each other, and that was the only thing he regretted about the past one month. For what else was there to lament, he sighed contentedly as every moment spent in Elizabeth's invigorating company passed through his eyes. Her eyes had flashed at him in anger, but they had similarly shone at him in admiration, her lips had said hurtful words to him but the same lips had soothed his grieving heart by telling him that _'waiting for him was not a choice', _and she had avoided him, to be sure, but likewise had she searched for him.

Sentences from throughout their acquaintance in Highcombe revolved around his mind. He remembered her confident rejoinder, **"if a man was able to secure my affections once, I am sure he can do it again," **and felt thrilled that it had indeed been as she had said.

He thought of how a mutual confidence had grown between them when he recalled her words to him at the beach, **"did I not prove that I trust you just now?"**

And finally his mind was gripped by that oh so cherished statement uttered by Elizabeth, **"there is nowhere else I would rather be."** What more proof did he require, he was sure, she would be his after this brief separation, her eyes had assured him that they would not forget his reflection in a hurry.

He looked outside as the carriage stopped before the inn they were to stay the night at. The door of the carriage opened and out bounded the little puppy, followed by Darcy who shook his head in exasperation at it. The inn was comfortable and a very tired Darcy went to sleep quickly and woke up the next morning with much different thoughts than the ones he had gone to sleep with.

As the carriage started again, Darcy could not help but dread both his meeting with Aunt Myrtle and his search for Wickham. He wanted to get through both the tasks at hand as quickly as possible when he thought of how she still had not openly discussed her dreams and visions with him. Something was not only holding her back but also making her afraid for an unknown reason. He worried that she would feel depressed about her past in his absence and that made his resolve to return sooner even stronger. He could not wait to be back with Elizabeth and make her his own, never to be parted again.

**Next Chapter: An Entanglement and a Funeral, an Engagement and a Letter**

*** For those readers who didn't understand Bingley's letter. Here's the one without blots:**

_Dear Darcy,_

_I am in urgent need of your assistance. That man Wickham, who everybody at Hertfordshire thought so highly of, has turned out to be the worst kind of blackguard. He somehow convinced Miss Lydia to elope with him. She has been missing for two days now, they have been traced as far as London with no proof of ever to have traveled to Gretna Green._

_My friend, you know that the Bennet family has no money to tempt him to do the decent thing by Miss Lydia. I fear the worst. In this bleak picture, you are the only ray of hope since you have known him for a long time. I therefore beg for any information that you can provide._

_I have come to find out that Miss Elizabeth is also staying in the same community as you, Mrs. Bingley asks you therefore, not to relate anything of the above mentioned account to her, for we do not want to unnecessarily worry her. I cannot emphasize how desperately my new family needs your services right now. Hoping to hear from you soon._

_Yours truly,_

_Charles Bingley._


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36: An Entanglement and a Funeral, an Engagement and a Letter**

Darcy looked at the large red brick house situated on the outskirts of London with trepidation. He did not know if Aunt Myrtle was having one of her panic attacks or if the end really was near. Before he could reach the knocker, a footman opened the door and the ancient butler welcomed him inside the house that scared the hell out of him as a child and even as a young lad. The butler bade him to wait in the front parlour that reminded him of a crypt due to its peculiar atmosphere.

He thought of how Elizabeth might have felt coming here, her presence certainly would have made the place less dreary. It felt as though he had spent hours there before the butler came and informed him that the Mistress was now ready to see him. He warily climbed the creaking stairs and wondered why Aunt Myrtle was saving up all her money when her house was in dire need of renovations.

"Enter," came a voice so authoritative, it would have made even Lady Catherine cringe. Darcy took a deep breath, there was nothing to it but to face the old dragon and convince her to change her will.

"Lady Myrtle," Darcy bowed low in front of the frail woman whose face was a cobweb of wrinkles, her house might have scared him in his early days, but he had always shared a strange camaraderie with its owner.

"Yes, yes," she waved a thin hand in the air dismissively, "do not Lady Myrtle me, I am no lady, never was." She laughed a laugh that made Darcy's hair stand on edge, and gestured towards a sofa for him to sit.

"I hear that you have decided that this is your last week in this unworthy world, **again,"** Darcy mocked, for that was the only way to deal with her. She laughed again but this time his hair remained in place.

"Have you come to mock me or go into your speech of why you are unworthy of my estate and how I should change my will?" She looked shrewdly at him.

"Since you might pass on to the afterlife anytime now, therefore I think it useless to beat around the bush," he uttered calmly, "and though you have ignored my request in the past, I implore you not to be so hardhearted this time. Change the will Aunt Myrtle."

"What is this nonsense about changing the will?" She huffed, "why can you not just pass the damn thing off to **him **after I die?"

"Do you think I have not suggested this to him before?" Darcy felt his patience running thin, "if I were to give him your estate after it transfers to my name, or any other property that is mine for that matter, he shall not accept it. Where as if someone was to **leave **him something in a will, that cannot be considered as charity."

"I see no difference," she narrowed her eyes.

"You would not," he agreed raising an eyebrow mockingly at her.

"Why are you Fitzwilliams so proud?" She asked in exasperation.

"There is only one Fitzwilliam in this room dear Aunt," Darcy replied looking meaningfully at her, "and it is not me."

"You always were too clever by half Fitzwilliam, and I can see that your stiff neck has been massaged down a little. Is it a lady, I wonder?" There was a wicked glint in her eyes as she teased him, Darcy had no power to stop the blush that rose up from his neck. She smiled tiredly at him, "but I am weary of this debate between us, what do you want me to put in his name?"

"Aunt Myrtle," Darcy looked at her in alarm for she had never been so malleable before, "are you really not feeling well?"

"I am feeling like I always do," she said calmly, "now go on, call the attorney, and have it all done as quickly as possible for I assure you do not have much time." Darcy was about to say something but she held up her hand, "leave me Fitzwilliam."

…

"I say it was jolly good of you to arrive so promptly eh Darcy," Bingley told his friend who was in a rather foul temper as they stepped aside a puddle in the dreary area of London.

Darcy had contacted Bingley and both of them conferred with Mr. Gardiner on the best way to approach the matter. Darcy was thankful that Mr. Bennet had departed for Longbourn a day earlier for his strange sense of humour disconcerted him no end. Darcy, at his own end had investigated for three days before the exact location of Wickham's whereabouts could be procured. And so it was that he was now walking at a brisk speed towards an inn in the slums of the town that was known for its notorious dealings.

"Number thirteen, did you say?" A thoroughly bewildered Bingley asked him as they walked the narrow corridor lined with rooms inside the inn. Darcy nodded and Bingley pointed towards the very room. They looked anxiously at one another before Darcy knocked and then entered without waiting for an answer first. A thoroughly surprised Wickham jumped as Miss Lydia looked on in surprise. He felt a moment's sadness at the fate Elizabeth's sister was going to meet but then shook his head to focus on dealing with Wickham.

"Tell the lady to pack her belongings," Darcy told Wickham in a voice that brooked no argument, "and I shall have a chat with you downstairs."

"I shall stay here and help **my sister **pack," Bingley looked with utter dislike at Wickham and then rather sternly at Lydia.

"But where am I to go," Lydia asked in bewilderment looking from one person to another, "and why is George not to come?"

"I shall be along as soon as I can," Wickham, glad for having a respite from the incessant chatter of his companion, was quick to aid in her speedy departure in anyway possible, "but we must trust your brother in this."

"Enough," Darcy rasped from the doorway, he had figured out that it was important to scare Wickham as soon and as much as possible, if he needed to achieve something, "We shall go downstairs, **now."**

As Darcy marched purposefully on towards the stairs, Wickham followed him quickly, shutting the door and hopefully the chapter of Miss Lydia Bennet as well. They approached a table in the corner and took seats opposite each other. Darcy was seething inside to be made to face the man he hated above all, but knew that he shall have to tread carefully, for the man sitting in front of him was no fool.

"What are you playing at Wickham?" He looked sternly at his childhood companion.

"What is your interest in this?" Wickham questioned him.

"It is not interest so much as responsibility," Darcy had come prepared for just such a question, "but you would not know that now would you?"

"And how is Miss Lydia Bennet your responsibility?" Wickham raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Not the lady, Wickham," Darcy drawled, "the situation. I do believe that this would not have come about if I had made your character known at Hertfordshire, when I first encountered you there."

"You have always taken your responsibilities too seriously Darcy," Wickham looked carefully at him, "but this is taking it too far, even for you."

"You can imagine whatever your fancy dictates," Darcy said sternly, "since coming to the aid of a friend holds no merit for you."

"Oh," understanding, though misplaced, dawned on Wickham's countenance, "so it is Bingley that requested your assistance."

"Let us come to the point, shall we?" Darcy said, tired of the useless questions and answers. "What would it take for you to marry the girl?"

"Depends on who is paying," Wickham looked seriously at him.

"Have you been labeled a deserter by your regiment yet?" Darcy had another question, Wickham looked dismayed but shook his head in a negative.

"I shall say this once and only once," Darcy bent forward and looked menacingly at Wickham, "you shall be bought a commission in another regiment, your debts shall be cleared as shall your name, but you shall not find your way out of marrying Miss Lydia Bennet."

"I…but," Darcy held up a hand as he abruptly stood up from his chair.

"You do know the resources I have at my disposal Wickham," he threatened in a low voice, "reject my offer and I shall make good on the promises I made you at Ramsgate."

"But the girl is absolutely wild," Wickham complained, defeat written plainly on his face.

"Then you two deserve each other," Darcy looked at him with something akin to sympathy, as Bingley appeared with Miss Lydia and her luggage.

Darcy left Wickham at the inn and went straight to Mr. Gardiner's house to deposit Miss Lydia in his care. On his way back to the house, he felt weary, tracking Wickham down had almost taken a week and to arrange the wedding would take even longer. He sighed and rubbed at his temple as he entered his study, when would he be able to go back to Torquay, to Elizabeth?

He had barely sat down at his desk when a footman entered with an urgent note for him. Darcy opened it warily and then read it with a sudden tightening of his heart, Aunt Myrtle had died.

…

"So you agree with me that only an engagement should be entered into until a commission is secured for Wickham and Miss Bennet arrives back from Torquay?" Darcy asked Mrs. Bingley as they walked together in the park known for the illustrious personages that visited there for their daily strolls.

"It would have been **safer," **replied Mrs. Bingley thoughtfully, "perhaps, if they were to be married right away, given Mr. Wickham's past record. But your reasoning holds merit too, for how is such a sudden marriage to be explained away to the neighbourhood? It would be wise to inform them that Lydia got engaged to Mr. Wickham while she was visiting with me, here in London and shall get married within the month before her husband leaves for his new post."

"You can rest assured Mrs. Bingley, that Wickham would not try to escape the marriage," he told her firmly, "though I am glad that your sister, Miss Mary had the presence of mind to spread the news that Miss Lydia had gone off to visit you, when she was first found missing," he commented, "although I do not know how much the servants could be trusted."

"Only Mrs. Hill knew of the true circumstances of her disappearance," Mrs. Bingley said sadly, "and she can be trusted, I assure you," she stopped here and turned towards him slightly, "I do not know how we shall ever be able to thank you Mr. Darcy, for what you have done for my poor sister."

"I only did as my conscience dictated Mrs. Bingley," he said averting his eyes, "and I implore you not to thank me again."

"What do you call it?" Mrs. Bingley looked at the now rapidly growing pup that bounced ahead.

"Sir Wuf," Darcy said slightly embarrassed of such a ridiculous name but Mrs. Bingley's peal of laughter eased his mind.

"You allowed Lizzy to name it," it was not a question, Darcy nodded, a smile on his lips, the memory of that day still fresh in his mind, the touch of her hand clasped in his still lingering on his skin.

"She is rather mischievous when it comes to naming pets," Mrs. Bingley said fondly, "I do miss her. How is she Mr. Darcy? I could not gather much from her letter."

"She is fine," he replied mildly and thought, _'and beautifully enchanting,' _"but she seems disturbed by her memories at times."

"Has she not regained them yet?" She looked carefully at him.

"She does have flashbacks," he told her frowning, "but they do not seem to forward anything."

"Is she behaving towards you?" she asked as they turned around to go back and Darcy smiled fully in answer.

"Quite," was his only reply, "tell me Mrs. Bingley, you would not mind keeping an eye on Sir Wuf? I do have servants aplenty but I would like it immensely if it had someone who could take care of him on a personal level."

"Of course not Mr. Darcy," she assured him, "I would love to have it around."

"Would you like to send a letter for your sister through me?" He asked as he handed her into the carriage.

"I just posted one this morning," she smiled but then frowned at Darcy's wary expression.

"I hope you did not impart anything about my dealings where Miss Lydia is concerned," he asked hesitantly.

"Your secret is safe, Mr. Darcy," she told him as the carriage started to roll.

Darcy sighed and walked off to his town house, the funeral and the arrangements to get Wickham a new commission had taken a lot longer than he had surmised, and yet there still remained the issue of the reading of Aunt Myrtle's final will and testament. He wondered if he would be able to make it back to Torquay in time for Christmas.

…

Darcy raised his hand in farewell to his visitor, and crossed the door back inside his townhouse walking leisurely to his study. He took a seat near the fireplace and relaxed into it, after releasing a deep breath. Everything that he had come to achieve, in such a hurry from Torquay, had been accomplished in a most satisfactory manner.

He thought of Wickham and young Lydia Bennet and in a way he felt sorry for them both. Wickham, in his recklessness had got himself shackled in a marriage of neither love nor means, and the young lady in question was willingly entering a match that, after the initial few days of marital bliss, was only going to suffer at the hands of her husband's habits of debauchery that would undoubtedly lead to destitute.

He shook his head to rid himself of the picture there, and thought of Ilythia instead. Dear, lovely Ilythia, he raked his hands through his hair, at last, after years of suffering in a self imposed separation from the man she loved, this Christmas, she would be able to declare him her fiancé to the whole world. He wished he could be there to witness their first meeting, and the surprise in everybody's, especially Georgiana's eyes, but alas, matters more important that those of the heart awaited him.

He still had to buy a marriage license for Wickham and Miss Lydia's upcoming nuptials along with completing the necessary arrangements for disposing of Aunt Myrtle's final wishes. He sighed and thought fondly of the old woman, who could make even his Uncle the Earl tremble.

Darcy got up and moved towards the window as he wondered what everyone at Highcombe must be doing, Elizabeth and Georgiana foremost in his thoughts.

…**.**

Elizabeth sat on the swing under the huge oak and thought of him, of things he had said, of how he had said those things, the timbre of his voice when he had said them, _'oh I am hopeless,' _she almost laughed at herself.

"How is your headache?" Rose approached her from the house, "I hope you did not have that dream again."

Elizabeth shivered as she got up and interlinked her arm with her friend's. She had dreamed a most horrific dream the day Mr. Darcy had left for London. She still felt a sudden fear every time she thought of how she had woken up screaming that day but the strange thing was that besides a headache, she had no memory of what the dream had been.

"I do not have a headache anymore," she turned towards Rose and assured her, "nor have I had the same dream again."

"Then why are you so quiet since then?" Rose looked pointedly at her but before Elizabeth could deny it, Rose said something that totally flummoxed her. "Or is it because Mr. Darcy has left?"

"Rose…I…," Elizabeth stammered.

"I might not be too clever Lizzy, but I do know that you like Mr. Darcy," Rose smiled at her and then frowned, "why would you hide it from me Lizzy?"

"I did not hide it from you," Elizabeth replied stiffly, "so much as I hid it from myself."

"Why would you do that Lizzy?" Rose cried, "I am sure that he has at least some regard for you too, if his intense gaze is anything to go by," she smiled in the end.

"My amnesia made me unwilling, Rose," she said thoughtfully.

"Lizzy I beg you," Rose looked sternly at her, "do not give too much consequence to your dreams and visions, what if they are false?"

"But what if they are not?" Elizabeth looked pensive.

"I am in no mood to listen to your _'a man has been kissing me in my dreams' _speech," Rose raised her hand and Elizabeth gave in to a reluctant giggle, "come let us go decide what we are to wear for lunch at the Colliers tomorrow."

"Do you not mind that Mr. Mark has already seen all your fancy dresses?" Elizabeth teased Rose but she maintained a determined façade.

"As if he has eyes for anything other than my eyes," she said haughtily, making Elizabeth go into a peal of laughter.

…**.**

"Get the blue one," Elizabeth told Georgiana as they rummaged through ribbons at Torquay's market place, "for your eyes." They had come to Torquay with Mrs. Collier and Irene for the express purpose of buying apparel items to finish off the look of their Christmas gowns.

"But my dress for the Christmas ball is lilac," she argued.

"My dear Georgiana," Elizabeth's eyes shone with mirth, "do I need to remind you that you are yet not out and therefore shall not be attending the ball?"

"Oh well," Georgiana smiled sadly at her, "Christmas would not be Christmas if William is not here on time." Elizabeth's heart clenched painfully at this piece of information, _'but he said __**soon,' **_her heart protested.

"What is he still doing there," she asked impatiently, "if your Aunt's funeral has been concluded?"

"Aunt Myrtle always liked to complicate things," Georgiana shrugged her shoulders, "I am sure she must have devised a way to keep him busy even after her death," she told her and then her eyes glittered with mischief, "do not worry, he shall be here for the ball, I am sure."

"Why would I worry," Elizabeth tried to look nonchalant but managed only to look even more petulant, "he is not my brother."

"That," said Mrs. Collier from behind them, a wide smile on her face, "he most certainly is not."

Georgiana chuckled lightly as Elizabeth turned away to hide the blush that was fast spreading on her cheeks. She wondered when she had become so transparent that everyone in the whole of Torquay knew about her feeling for Mr. Darcy.

…**.**

Elizabeth watched in interest as Miss Irene ran after Lt. Trent for he had dared to tease her about something, and smiled. She had grown so fond of everyone at Highcombe that as the time for her departure drew near, she felt a twinge of sadness at the thought of leaving behind so amiable a company.

Rose and Mr. Mark were debating on when to have another excursion to the beach while Bella sat morosely by Ilythia who still was not talking to her, as was Georgiana, who sat under a tree sketching Elizabeth. Elizabeth did feel sometimes for the young girl who everybody had taken to ignoring after the incident with the arrow and wondered if this was the right approach to correct her wild behaviour.

'Oh look," Bella suddenly jumped up from her perch on the ground, "it is William come back."

The clouds suddenly parted and the sun shone brightly for Elizabeth, as she turned around and beheld the Darcy carriage approaching through the drive. Her heart was beating so loudly that it took her a few moments to process what was being said all around her. As a tall figure of a man jumped out of the carriage and turned towards them, she heard a loud gasp from behind her. Elizabeth looked towards Ilythia and saw her face become ashen for a moment before it bloomed like a rose.

"Richard," the name fell through her lips in a whisper as she staggered forwards and then took quick steps before breaking into a run. Elizabeth's eyes traveled towards the other figure emulating her moves, and she felt extreme surprise mingled with extreme disappointment as she realized that the man just arrived was not Mr. Darcy, but Col. Fitzwilliam.

"Oh," said Bella unemotionally, "so it is the Col. she loves and not William."

Elizabeth looked towards Rose and Mr. Mark and registered the astonished countenance of Miss Collier's twin. Her eyes wandered back towards the couple that held hands until Col. Fitzwilliam raised his to wipe the tears off Miss Colliers cheeks. She smiled through her tears and Elizabeth thought that she had never seen a more beautiful expression on a woman's face. She turned towards the shocked Georgiana and said mildly,

"I hope you shall capture this Georgiana, they do make a beautiful couple." And the young girl suddenly came to.

"Richard and Ilythia," she cried, "oh my God, I might die of shock, if I do not die of happiness first."

"So you had no idea?" Elizabeth asked curiously as all of them watched the approaching figures of the two lovers.

"None whatsoever," replied Miss Irene who had just returned from running after Lt. Trent..

"Well," said a glowing Miss Collier as she halted near them with the Col., "this is Col. Richard Fitzwilliam, as all of you know, except of course Lt. and Miss Trent and Miss Bennet," she stopped and smiled at everyone, a smile that not only reached her eyes, it also enhanced their beauty manifold, "This is Lt. Trent, Irene's fiancé, his sister Miss Rose Trent and Miss Elizabeth Bennet, their guest and now our friend too."

"I do happen to know Miss Bennet already," he told Miss Collier after executing a rather elaborate bow to his in-laws to be, "we met in Kent, this spring."

"Of course Col.," Elizabeth smiled at the jovial man, "how can I forget."

"Indeed," Miss Collier said in surprise, "I had no idea."

"How could you?" He shrugged his shoulders, "we never met after January."

"And whose fault is that?" She looked archly at him.

"Yours," the Col. looked lovingly at her beautiful face, "entirely yours."

"Do not tell me that you two are going to have a lovers' quarrel before he even asks for Papa's consent," commented Mr. Mark dryly, making everyone chuckle and the fiancés blush.

"Thanks for reminding me Mark," Col. Fitzwilliam said graciously, "after all I did steal Darcy's carriage to travel here for one thing only."

"Where is William, Richard?" Georgiana asked in a small voice from behind the crowd and the Col.'s eyes quickly turned towards her.

"My little ward," he quickly walked towards her and grasped her hands, "you are not too angry at me for showing up instead of your brother?"

"Of course not," she smiled, "but when is he coming," she asked the question that Elizabeth was dying to know the answer to.

"He is tying some loose ends to old Myrtle's will," he told Georgiana, "he shall be here by Christmas, I am sure."

_'But the Christmas is only three days away,' _thought Elizabeth sadly and wondered if he would be able to make it to the ball.

"Is it settled then?" Asked Miss Collier guardedly and the Col. nodded looking meaningfully at her, "I shall take you to Papa now," she beamed and they walked off leaving everyone else to guess at what was about to happen in Mr. Zackary Collier's study.

…**..**

With only a day left to Christmas, Elizabeth's doubts on Mr. Darcy's timely arrival were running high, and his absence would mean an absence of mind on her part as well. She walked restlessly in the lawn as everything around looked bleak. Oh how she had missed him in these two weeks, how she had longed for him to materialize out of thin air and look at her with his intense eyes.

She would go to the woods knowing that he would not be there, but still hoping like an idiot that he would step forward from behind some tree, Sir Wuf circling his feet. Her frame of mind was such that she only ever wanted to talk about him, and so she had spent the majority of her time with Georgiana, learning things about him that he would never have told her himself, from embarrassing childhood adventures to benevolent acts of charity, Georgiana was a fountain of information on her brother.

But talking about him, hearing how good a man he was and listening to his praise could only carry her so far. That day her pessimism was riding high, all kinds of doubts assailing her mind, both regarding Mr. Darcy and her own past when a servant brought her a letter. She took it and thanked him and eyed the address on the letter. A smile quickly spread on her lips as she broke the seal of Jane's letter. _'That ought to cheer me up,' _she thought happily.

_My dearest Lizzy,_

_I hope this letter finds you in the best of health, and not amidst a flashback or a headache (Mr. Darcy has told me all about those). You must be surprised at receiving a letter from me so soon after I had wrote you one not many weeks ago. Lizzy, Something has happened that you ought to know of, and although I do not want to agitate you when you are so far away from your family, I would still like you to be in possession of what had almost befallen us._

_As you are well aware, that Lydia spent this summer at Brighton with Col. Forster and his wife and among the Militia. It is now apparent that she had formed a deep attachment to one officer that we all know, Mr. George Wickham. She has been communicating with him all this time, without anyone's knowledge except Kitty's. Two weeks ago, she ran away from home with the intention of eloping with Mr. Wickham._

_You can well imagine the situation back home, for Mama immediately took to bed, her nerves being so delicate. Papa though set off for London to try and find her, for they were tracked up to the town and no farther, apparently Mr. Wickham had no intention of ever marrying her. I was at that time luckily at our house in London as that inspired Mary to spread about the news of Lydia having left with Papa to visit me in town. Though some of the gossip had already started to spread, but this timely invention of our younger sister went a long way in curbing it._

_Now Lizzy I am going to impart news that must be kept a secret. When Charles was informed of the facts, he quickly suggested that Mr. Darcy be asked for help since all the inquiries from Mr. Wickham's fellow officers had proven to be futile. Mr. Darcy therefore was promptly written to and good man that he is, he came to our aid immediately. I cannot dwell enough on how helpful and gracious he has been throughout this whole sad business. From finding them out, to convincing Mr. Wickham to marry Lydia, and procuring him a commission in another regiment along with getting rid of his debtors._

_Though Mr. Bingley has also contributed where money is concerned (and I do not say this to be thanked), it was Mr. Darcy's strong presence in those traumatic days that has been a real support. It was on his suggestion that an engagement between the two is announced, the wedding shall take place once you are back, probably in January. Papa shall also be writing to you about your return arrangements._

_Mr. Darcy tells me that he shall be going back to Torquay as soon as his Aunt's will is settled. We have frequently met in the past days, and the more I know him the more I treasure his friendship. He has trusted me and Mr. Bingley with the care of a most adorable puppy; you might know of it, Mr. Darcy calls it Sir Wuf._

_I hope that this news is not too distressing for you especially now that there is no reason to be worried when everything has been settled admirably. I also trust that you shall not divulge the fact that you know everything, to Mr. Darcy, for I assured him most earnestly that his secret is safe with me. He does not want anybody's gratitude, especially yours._

_I cannot wait to see you again Lizzy, for it seems an age since we were last together and had a long chat about something. Charles sends his regards._

_Yours affectionately._

_Jane Bingley._

Elizabeth sat down on the swing as her heartbeat calmed down slowly. She had known now, for sometime, the lengths that Wickham could go to in order to achieve his vile ambitions, but never in her life had she imagined that he would plot something of this magnitude against her own blood, or that any of her sister's could be so wholly devoid of any sense of honour to elope with a man.

Her mind reeled from the news in the letter, but the justice of Jane's statement that '_there is no reason to be worried when everything has been settled admirably_' soon tranquilized her senses. She thought of the disappointment of her father and a weight settled at the pit of her stomach once again. She desperately wished to be with her family in their time of need, but Torquay was too far from Hertfordshire to even think of a journey so far on her own, let alone attempt it.

She read the letter again and her heart soared at Mr. Darcy's magnanimity. He had dealt, repeatedly, with a man that he felt uncomfortable even talking about, what agonies he must have gone through to spend so much time in Wickham's company. She wished to be with him right now so she could thank him on the behalf of her family as well as herself.

But Jane had forbidden it as it would make him uncomfortable, therefore Elizabeth decided not to say anything about it whenever they met again. _'But when would that be?' _her heart cried. She sighed and got up to go to her room, Jane's letter had given her a lot to think about, including why she was feeling a slight jealousy at the news that he had been meeting frequently with Jane and also why he had left Sir Wuf with her when it was Elizabeth who had named it. She knew that she was being silly, but she could not help it, she wanted him all to herself, his attentions, his smiles and apparently his pets too.

**Next Chapter: The Balcony and the Ball**


	37. Chapter 37

**Memory Reference: Chapter 19, the gazebo scene, Darcy's POV.**

**Chapter 37: The Balcony and The Ball**

_**'…promise me that you will never forget me…' someone whispered against her lips**_

_**'…some day…' it was her voice now '… I might forget you… I might even forget myself…but I can never forget the way you make me feel…' he tightened his grip on her waist '…my heart would always race at your touch…' she closed her eyes briefly as his knuckles slipped down her cheek 'your words might be forgotten, but your voice would always be familiar to me… I would always detect your presence close to me… such is my intensity of awareness for you…'**_

_**'You are too good for me…' he pulled her close and rested his chin on her head**_

_**'…so if I ever forget you…' her voice rang out '…all you have to do is kiss me…and I shall remember…'**_

_**'…kiss me and I shall remember…'**_

_**'…kiss me… I shall remember…'**_

_**'…I SHALL REMEMBER…' **_

Elizabeth woke up with a start by the sound of her own voice shouting in her ears, repeating the same words over and over until she could bear it no more. She sat up, as her heart slowed down to a normal beat, and wiped her sweaty brow. She looked around to find the bedclothes all bunched up around her and got up. The room was quite chilly now for there was no fire in the grate and it was always the coldest in the early morning.

Elizabeth grabbed her spencer from the coat stand and slipped into it, before walking towards the chair by the window. _'It is a lie,' _she reassured herself, _'a twisted imagination of my mind, nothing more.' _She had been trying to deceive herself, rather successfully, into thinking that her dreams and visions meant nothing, that the past was just that, **the past. **Ever since the day of the Waltz practice she had tried not to dwell too much on her dreams or to over analyze her visions in favour of dwelling too much upon Mr. Darcy and over analyzing every little exchange between them, but today that self-delusion had ended.

She stared outside the window at the rapidly brightening day. After the dream she had just had, it was not possible to continue disregarding the truth when it shone as bright as the day outside. Love for Mr. Darcy had effectively blinded her to everything else but no one could possibly stay blind to the kind of dream she had just had.

**"I shall remember," **was the one sentence uttered, undeniably in her own voice, that had affixed itself to her mind. She had given someone her word, her promise, that she would not forget him, someone she had loved, someone she had trusted enough to allow him to come so close. Elizabeth's cheeks burned at what she had said, she had told the man in her dreams that he could _'kiss her'_. And now she had retrieved her promise, not only had she forgotten all about him, she had also gone ahead and fallen in love with another.

_'Oh Mr. Darcy,' _her heart cried out to him, _'I need you, your silent support, your calming words, your soothing touch, please come back,' _she pleaded silently but earnestly. Elizabeth got up and started pacing impatiently around the room. She wondered about the voice in her dreams that had increasingly started to sound like Mr. Darcy, but she knew that it was just wishful thinking on her part, she just could not imagine herself with anyone other than him.

But how was she supposed to **be **with Mr. Darcy when she had already promised herself to this unknown man? Maybe she should tell Mr. Darcy about him and ask for his advice. _'Oh this is ridiculous,' _she stopped in front of the window and rested her head at the cool glass. She wondered what Mr. Darcy's reaction would be when he found out that she had pledged her heart to someone before him, promised him her hand and allowed him liberties. Would he still want to be with a woman who was engaged to another?

She got away from the window, shrugged out of the coat and went back to bed. She wondered about the man in her past, about where he could be and about how he must feel. A man as much in love with her as he appeared to be in her dreams, must be devastated at the misfortune of the woman he loved forgetting all about him. _'How must he be suffering,' _thought Elizabeth sadly. She wondered if he ever blamed her, or felt angry, she knew that she would feel cheated somehow if such a calamity was to befall her. She also marveled at his patience, for patience it must be that kept him away from her when all he needed to do was come and claim her for she would not be able to deny him now that she knew the truth of her past.

She shivered at the thought of some unknown man coming to claim her, to take her away from Mr. Darcy. And then a thought occurred to her that horrified her in the extreme, what if one day she suddenly regained her memories and found out that she was in love with two men? Who would she choose? Could she choose anyone other than Mr. Darcy now that she knew that he was the only one for her? But would not choosing Mr. Darcy when the other man had a prior claim be unjust and unfair to the other man?

Her temples had started to throb with the onslaught of so many questions, all of them without any possible answer. Would to God that she had not been such a self-important and prejudiced being and had the astuteness to judge Mr. Darcy for what he truly was, then none of this would have happened, then by now she might even have been Mrs. Darcy. She closed her eyes sadly as the thought that she might never become Mrs. Darcy now occurred to her.

Did Mr. Darcy feel strongly enough for her to disregard her past? But what was she thinking, she checked the uncontrolled flow of her thoughts, did he feel anything at all for her, let alone anything stronger than mere liking? Yes, she was sure that he loved her still as he had in April. Her heart warmed at the thought of being loved by him, her body felt warm at the thought of being loved by him. She hugged a pillow to herself as she thought of the tall, kind man who made her feel like the luckiest woman in the world, and even the merest thought of him was enough to tranquilize her agitated nerves and she started drifting off to sleep when suddenly her own voice woke her up once again.

_**'I feel like the luckiest woman in the world…that you chose me…' she said in a most earnest, most sincere tone**_

She jerked awake as sadness gripped her heart. How could she have the same emotions for Mr. Darcy that she had already had for someone else? But more importantly how could she ever have felt the way she did for Mr. Darcy, for anyone else?

Elizabeth's day passed in a strange kind of lethargy. She tried to share Rose's excitement for the ball that evening, but her spirits laboured under melancholy.

"Lizzy I cannot believe how lazy you have become," Rose huffed as Betsy tightened her corset so that it was hard to believe that she would be able to breathe let alone get even a drop of water down.

"And I cannot believe that you would go to such lengths in order to catch the eye of the officers at the ball," Elizabeth bit back as she finally got up from her seat on the writing table where she was reading, she had at last found a book in the library that helped her take her mind off the mystery of her past. She stretched and yawned before walking towards her dress lying neatly on the bed as the maid giggled.

"You are lucky Lizzy that you have such a tiny waist," Rose pouted as she finally let out the breath she had been holding for the corset to sit well on her, "otherwise you would be doing the same, though for the officers or someone else, I do not know," she wagged her eyebrows playfully.

Elizabeth kept her back resolutely turned towards Rose and her eyes fixed to the grape green satin gown as her mind wandered towards that _'someone else' _who may or may not be present at the ball.

"In my defense," she turned towards her friend after she had schooled her expression to that of nonchalance, "I have not met any of the officers yet."

"They are nice enough," Rose shrugged her shoulders before raising her arms for Betsy to slip the beautiful champagne coloured gown on her, "but nothing to the gentlemen from Brookridge," she smiled mischievously at Elizabeth.

"I know who you mean," Elizabeth unbuttoned her morning dress and got out of it quickly as she wagged her eyebrows, "and he is just one, there is no need to talk in plurals."

"Well then we both know each others secrets," Rose smiled at her before turning her back to her maid so that she could button her dress up.

"As does Betsy," Elizabeth placed the dress she had just got out of on the bed and all three of them laughed.

"Oh I am sure it is going to be a splendid evening," Rose said excitedly as she brushed her hair while the maid helped Elizabeth to get into her dress.

"Especially for the newly engaged couple," Elizabeth grabbed a brush from the vanity and started brushing her hair while Betsy busied herself with Rose's hair.

"Oh nothing could have been more surprising than the sudden appearance of the Col.," Rose looked at Elizabeth through the mirror.

"Indeed,' Elizabeth agreed and placed the hair brush back on the table, "nothing could have been more surprising, they do seem to have very different personalities."

"That hardly matters when you fall in love," Rose preened herself in the mirror as she got off the stool to let Elizabeth have her turn.

"And having different personalities does not mean that the marriage would not be a success," Elizabeth said thoughtfully, the dissimilarity between her own and Mr. Darcy's characters not far from her mind.

"Do you know that the three elder Colliers leave with the Col. on the day after tomorrow?" Rose asked Elizabeth as Betsy deftly inserted the last pin in her hair.

"Do they," Elizabeth felt surprised, "but is not that the day after the Christmas day?"

"Indeed it is," Rose replied as she picked up a beautiful wrap that went perfectly with her gown, "the wedding date for both the girls has been set for sometime in March, for both James and the Col. cannot get a leave of absence before that, but this does not give the brides enough time to have the wedding trousseau ready in time for the wedding. That is why they leave immediately after Christmas to not only avail the season but also finish up the shopping."

"And Mr. Mark has been assigned the role of the Chaperone?" Elizabeth smiled at Rose who giggled in turn.

"I shall not tell him you said that," Rose helped Elizabeth into her emerald green bolero and smiled fully at her, "for he would not be talking to you ever again."

"That is alright Rose," Elizabeth replied with a smirk, "he never talks to anyone when you are around anyway."

Both friends dismounted the stairs amidst laughter but where Rose's laughter was lighthearted at the prospect of spending a night in good company and a lot of dancing, Elizabeth's was a forced one in the apprehension of having more flashbacks and no Mr. Darcy.

The Trents and Elizabeth entered the Torquay Assembly Hall to find that the Colliers had already arrived sans Mr. Darcy. Her heart plunged into new depths at his absence. The many candles in the hall lost their glow as the beautiful colours of the gowns of the ladies' present faded to dull hues. They quickly started mingling with the people present with Rose introducing her to some of her acquaintances. The Johnson's elder son immediately took a fancy to Elizabeth and to her chagrin started following her around with his eyes whenever it was not possible to do it with his whole body. She was in the middle of forming an appropriate rejection statement when he caught her unawares.

"My dear Miss Bennet," he said placidly, "it would be my great honour if you bestow upon me the pleasure of your company for the next dance."

"Of course Mr. Johnson," having not prepared the speech in time, Elizabeth had no option but to accept.

"Enchanted, I am sure," he bowed and left her mouth hanging open.

"Oh Rose," Elizabeth wailed to Rose after his departure, "why did you introduce me to such a coxcomb?"

"You shall have a good time with him," Rose smirked, "I dare say."

"Do not dare say that," Elizabeth whispered in annoyance as Mr. Mark came to claim Rose and Mr. Johnson to get thoroughly enchanted by her.

The reel was uncomfortable to say the least. Elizabeth was in no humour to even talk let alone dance with anyone other than Mr. Darcy and yet the very thought of facing him after reaching the decision that she was, in all probability, engaged to someone else made her feel agitated in the extreme for their next meeting.

As the reel finished, Mr. Johnson and Elizabeth separated in mutual satisfaction, the former of being just as **enchanted **as he had hoped to be and the latter of being successful in not **enchanting **him at all. As Elizabeth stood with Lt. Trent and Miss Irene and a few officers of the Royal Navy, her eyes kept a silent vigil on the door so that the moment Mr. Darcy entered the hall, her heart stopped beating altogether before it threatened to beat right out of her chest. He looked quite handsome in a dark suit and breeches, his cravat tied to perfection as usual. Elizabeth afraid to meet his eyes, quickly said yes to the officer who asked her to dance with him and they took their place in the set.

As Elizabeth moved on the music with the other dancers, she could not stop her eyes from moving again and again towards where he stood with his Aunt, deep in conversation, not once looking in her direction. She felt angry at herself for being so capricious, one moment she was too afraid to meet his eye and the other she was angry at him for not looking at her. As soon as the dance finished, she excused herself and ran out on the balcony at the back of the hall.

But even the cool air outside failed to calm her nerves. The ball, the way Mr. Darcy had entered the hall, the way she had been expecting him to come but dreading the moment he did, everything felt familiar. Were her memories never to leave her alone, was she never to get rid of the past, never to be at peace? Multiple emotions battled within her for precedence as her eyes stung.

She placed her hands on the railing, gripping it tightly to gain some manner of control over her emotions, but the agitation kept mounting.

"What are you doing out here, Miss Bennet," a deep voice said from behind making her jump, "when all the amusement is inside?"

"Mr. Darcy," she croaked out as she turned around, her hand on heart, "I did not hear you come out."

"But you did see me come in," he drawled pointedly taking a step near her.

Elizabeth looked at him and her heart cried out in anguish. For the first time in her life, she was in love and for the first time in her life, she was in pain as well, pain of doubt, pain of an impending separation and pain of not knowing how to live without him.

"I…," she turned away from him, staring out in the dark night, her back to the light, her back to the sun, "I was about to start the dance," she said lamely.

"You cannot lie to me, Miss Bennet," he whispered somewhere near her ear, Elizabeth held her breath at his closeness, "tell me what is wrong?" He asked in concern and she turned towards him once again.

He was nearer than she had expected, he was dearer much dearer than she had supposed. He looked down, bending a little towards her, worry etched on his features. Tears started pooling in her eyes, what was she supposed to do, how was she supposed to resist him and how was she supposed to stop herself from sharing everything that was in her heart with him?

"Miss Bennet," he said in alarm as he drew nearer.

Elizabeth did not know who made the first move, whether it was Mr. Darcy who pulled her into his arms or if it was she who threw herself on his chest, but in less than a moment she found herself ensconced in his arms, sobbing heavily and uncontrollably on his shirt.

"Shhh," his hands moved slowly on her back, "why do you cry so? What has happened to make you so wretched?"

His gentle voice started to calm her nerves as his soft touch lulled her into a sense of serenity. She could not understand what had come over her to make her behave in such an uncharacteristic manner, for Elizabeth could not remember the last time she had cried with such emotion.

"Hush," he whispered, gathering her to him, "do not cry child."

"I am not a child," Elizabeth looked up petulantly at him with her tear stained face and her red nose and saw him trying hard to hide a smile.

"And nobody who looked at you right now would ever labour under such a misunderstanding," his voice had a teasing quality to it.

Elizabeth stepped back and was about to clean her face with a handkerchief when Mr. Darcy who had not yet stepped away from her cupped her face in his hands and gently wiped her tears with his thumbs. He was so gentle and beheld her with such tenderness that fresh tears started to gather in her eyes and run down her cheeks. Darcy took her handkerchief from her hand and dabbed at her eyes with it.

"No more," he implored with his lips as well as his eyes, "I beg you. Do not cry anymore." She nodded and took deep breaths to calm herself. He took her hand in his as he led her to the bench near the window of the hall through which light streamed out, illuminating his handsome face and brightening his blue eyes.

"Now tell me what is ailing you?" He asked in a soft voice as they sat on the bench, but did not let go of her hand.

"I…it is…well I…you see I…one night…as I…ahem…err slept…I…," she stopped and looked helplessly at him, not knowing how to tell him of her plight.

"You had a dream?" He asked turning completely towards her as his thumb drew lazy circles on the back of her hand. She nodded thankfully at him for supplying her with an opening and yet her lips still remained sealed so he took the lead once again, "and it disturbed you?"

"Yes," she said simply, not raising her eyes from their hands, indeed disturb did not even begin to describe what she had felt after that dream.

"Would you please tell me about it?" It was a question that sounded like a command but there was also a sudden anxiety in his voice, "I would like to know what it is about your dreams and visions that disturbs you so much."

"Mr. Darcy I…I would like very much to tell you everything as well," she raised her eyes to his face and he nodded encouragingly at her, "but can I start from the beginning?" She asked somewhat hesitantly.

"Of course Miss Bennet," he said sincerely, "I do not think that we shall be much missed inside."

"Alright," she said and took a deep breath turning towards him, "you are aware, of course, that I have been having dreams and visions ever since I regained consciousness after the accident." Mr. Darcy nodded and she continued staring at his cravat, his eyes were too bright to be encountered that day, especially in her state of mental dishevelment. "You are also aware that they have increased in frequency lately. Initially a sentence or a statement and sometimes an incident was what prompted me to have a vision, odd snippets of conversations really, which then recurred in my dreams in the form of a detailed version. But recently, I hardly need a cue to remember something, it is like my thoughts alone are causing me to dream about the past." She stopped and looked up at him.

"Go on," he said in rapt attention that she was thankful for, as she would not have been able to go on if he had seemed disinterested.

"These dreams and visions are mostly about…ahem...," she stopped and looked pleadingly at him, "I hope that what I am about to tell you would not make you think any less of me."

"That is not a possibility," his voice, his expression and his grip on her hand all bespoke a firmness that not only raised her spirits but also her confidence in the fact that she was correct in trusting him with this, "now tell me what your dreams are about."

"They are almost always about…," she gulped and closed her eyes, "about a **man." **She did not know what she was expecting him to do, when she opened her eyes but it was definitely not what she saw. Mr. Darcy was smiling rather broadly and somewhat indulgently at her.

"Really Miss Bennet," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, "I thought that at least wild horses had got into your bedroom, with gnomes on their backs that ate all your pretty silk slippers to get you into such a state, but alas it was only a man."

"Mr. Darcy," she cried in indignation jerking her hand away from his grasp, "it is not a laughing matter and if you have decided, of all times, to play the comedian today, then I suggest that you go back inside and let me wallow in my misery alone." She folded her arms on her chest and stared defiantly at him. Mr. Darcy, properly chastised for his untimely quip, looked a little sheepishly at her.

"I do joke sometimes," he defended himself, his eyes still dancing with mirth, but Elizabeth kept resolutely quite, "alright, you win," he raised his hands in defeat and then eyed her hand warily, "now can I have my hand back?"

Elizabeth's heart pounded against its walls as heat surged upwards from her neck to her cheeks, _'his hand,' _She thought giddily, _'since when has my hand become his?'_

"Not until you prove that you are worthy of it," she said with hooded lashes and heard him sigh. Elizabeth looked up to find his expression a little troubled and was about to say something to lighten the mood when he spoke up.

"I do apologize for leading you off the topic," he said seriously this time, "so there is a man that appears in your dreams," he looked questioningly at her and she nodded, "is it the same man every time?"

"Yes," she replied, "you see Mr. Darcy, I have never seen his face," and then thought _'except a few times when I have seen you in his place,' "_ I only hear his voice and feel his presence," _'and his lips,' _"but I do believe, in fact I am sure that it is the same man in all my dreams."

"What upsets you about this man Miss Bennet?" She turned towards him and found him looking at her guardedly.

"The fact that he is my fiancé," she replied flatly, and took in his reaction carefully. To her relief Mr. Darcy looked astonished, but not dismayed in the least.

"Indeed," he said in some surprise, "and how have you come to such a conclusion? Is this surmise of yours based solely on your dreams for dreams can be a figment of one's imagination Miss Bennet?"

"I agree Mr. Darcy," she placed her elbows on her knees and her face in her hands, "but visions cannot. And my every vision and dream so far suggests that I did in fact get engaged to a man in my past, and if the same visions are to be believed am…err…in…ahem…love with him as well." She finished haltingly and turned slightly towards him to gauge his reaction, and found nothing but deep thought there.

"If you are correct and your dreams and visions can be believed, then where is this man that you supposedly love?" He argued.

"I do not know," she said dejectedly, "maybe he is waiting for me to regain my memories."

"Or maybe he does not exist," he suggested seriously.

"Mr. Darcy he does exist," she quickly sat up turning completely towards him, "I could not have imagined his…," here she faltered, for she could not possibly tell him about what she had been doing with a strange man in the past.

"His what?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"His love," she replied evasively but could not stop herself from blushing, and her blush became even more pronounced as she saw understanding dawning on Mr. Darcy's face, his blue eyes darkening for some reason.

"So you have been in love with a man in the past, or maybe engaged to him as well," he shrugged his shoulders now, "why is it a cause for concern now?"

"I am afraid that he…that someday he…," she stopped and wondered in what way to tell him that she was scared that the mystery man would come and claim her and take her far away from him.

"That he might come and claim you as his fiancée?" Mr. Darcy asked, his eyes widening slightly.

"And why not?" She said with feeling this time, "I might not know him but I am certain that the man in my dreams loves me deeply." To her astonishment, Mr. Darcy looked rather pleased at this revelation.

"And you, Miss Bennet," he moved a little closer to her on the bench, "the important thing here is what do you feel about him?"

"I shall not lie to you," she began in a low voice, "Whenever I am in the realm of my dreams, Mr. Darcy, I do feel as though I reciprocate his feelings," she knit her eyebrows as she stared far away in the distance, "but as soon as I come to reality, I feel nothing but a strange anxiety. I am a very inquisitive person and though the doctor told me not to dwell too much on the past, I have at times spent hours analyzing my dreams and visions, but for sometime now, the flashbacks make me apprehensive. I want them to stop, I want my past to remain hidden, from me, I do not want to know," she finished rather morosely.

"Miss Bennet," he called her and she looked up to find a tumult of emotions on his face, he seemed both elated and sad at the same time, if that was possible, "I am honoured that you have confided in me," he told her sincerely," but I do believe that you are worrying unnecessarily about your past."

"So you do not understand me either," she looked at him in disappointment.

"I do understand you," he said fervently, "in fact I comprehend you perfectly. Would you like to listen to what I have inferred from what you have told me?" He asked her eagerly and she nodded, not knowing what else to do, her heart once again dropping into the abyss of gloom.

"To begin with, I do agree with you that there was a man in your past whom you must have fallen in love with and subsequently gotten engaged to," she looked at him in amazement and wondered how he could be so indifferent about the fact that she had a fiancé, but he continued regardless of her surprise, "for you are one of the least fanciful females that I have ever come across and therefore could not have imagined the whole scenario. Therefore I conclude that it must be true."

"Thank you for believing me," she looked brightly and a little oddly at him, "for a moment I thought that you were of the opinion that I had imagined it all."

"No indeed," he assured her, "I do believe you. But having said all that, **where** is this man? If he was or still is as vehemently in love with you as your dreams have led you to believe, then what could be causing his continued absence from your life? Is he not taking rather a huge risk in staying away from you, for who knows what this distance between you and him might bring about in each of your lives considering the fact that you do not even remember him."

"Maybe he wants me to remember him first," she said weakly.

"But what if you **never** remember him?" He asked with feeling, "is he supposed to wait around forever? Would it not be a better scheme to try and win your heart again? And once he is sure of your regard, he can then help you remember."

"But…" Mr. Darcy held up his hand to stop her.

"What if while he is waiting for you to remember him, you go ahead and fall in love with someone else?" He stared deeply into her eyes now, holding her immobile with his gaze, his tone hinting at a hidden meaning, "can you be held responsible for such an occurrence, when you do not even remember your past? Can you be accused of being unfaithful when you do not know that your affections are engaged already? Can you be liable to willfully hurting an innocent man when you are not even aware of the existence of such a man?"

"I…," he again stopped her, this time by placing his finger on her lips, making her accumulate every ounce of her will power to stop herself from kissing his finger there and then.

"Let me finish first, Miss Bennet," he said removing his finger off her mouth while she just stared at him mesmerized by his words, "here you are fretting and losing sleep over the memories that probably are not going to play any role in your coming days. I cannot believe that you are going to allow some unknown presence in your dreams to jeopardize your chance at happiness in the reality."

Elizabeth was now breathing rather rapidly. She had thought on the same lines before herself also, but hearing him reassert what she had wanted all along had gone a far way in curbing her anxiety and eliminating her fears. Mr. Darcy was right of course, if the mysterious man from her flashbacks had not approached her yet, then who was to say if he would ever come back. All her angst, all her wakeful nights and haunted thoughts were for naught. She felt light as a feather all of a sudden, maybe it was his words, or merely his presence but he had always had a calming effect on her ever since they had met again at Torquay. She looked up and found him searching her face.

"What are you suggesting Mr. Darcy," she asked him, desperately needing to be reassured one last time, "that I should forget about the past, disregard my dreams and ignore my visions?"

"Miss Bennet," he looked somewhat reluctant but continued on, "I would not want you to disregard anything about your past, no matter what happened in those four months, that time is still a part of your life. All I want for you is not to dwell on the past at the expense of the present. Tell me," he suddenly asked her in earnest, "are you happy, right now?"

And just like that Elizabeth knew, which piece of her life she wanted to be a part of, **this one with Mr. Darcy**. Yes she had a past, yes it must be important, but **no** it could not take precedence over **him. **He was the biggest reality of her life now and she would not let a few dreams take away even a moment of joy that was his smile, his touch, his existence, **him.**

"The happiest I have ever been," she replied just as earnestly and a beautiful smile lit his face, a smile, she was sure, that he had only for her.

"Then there you have your answer," he said in a satisfied tone.

…

Darcy watched the passing scenery as the carriage hurried towards Torquay. He had seen some extremely busy days in the past week and now only wanted to relax once he reached his destination and his destination was his Elizabeth. Wherever she was, was where he wanted to be, where he had to be, where he was dying to be.

If only she had been with him on this journey, it would not have seemed so tiring then, she would have made him laugh with her witticisms, cleared away his frown with her delicate, tapering fingers and let herself be kissed by him, thoroughly. Darcy groaned and banished the thought of kissing her out of his mind, for now.

His mind was still reeling from the aftereffects of the proceedings of the previous week. Meeting Wickham again had been horrible, but seeing him just as unrepentant of his mistakes had bothered him immensely. How could one person be so wholly insensible of the peril his untamed deeds have put so many of his fellow individuals in? The fact that he lured Miss Lydia under false pretenses to become a companion for his bed was testament to him being devoid of any sense of right, but did he not even once think about the ramifications of such an act on a family that still had three unmarried daughters?

He sighed and shook his head to ward off the unwanted thoughts that had started to assail his mind. He was going back to where all the people that he dearly loved were, from Izzie to Ilythia, Richard to Georgiana and of course Elizabeth. He hoped to reach Highcombe in time for the Christmas Ball, for after all, who else would Elizabeth dance with if not him?

The carriage came to an abrupt halt in front of Brookridge Hall's main door and Darcy jerked up from the deep sleep that had at last claimed him on the journey. He jumped out and resisted the urge to yawn and stretch in front of the servants. As he entered the house, the butler quickly approached him with the information that everyone had just departed for Torquay. Before Darcy could ask after his sister, Georgiana came running down the stairs.

"I knew I heard a carriage," she dimpled at him as he quickly embraced her, "oh William I am so glad you are come, for I have missed you terribly."

"As have I," he looked down at her lovingly and asked, "how has your time been in my absence?"

"It was alright," she told him as they climbed the stairs together and then smiled teasingly, "Elizabeth kept me company, though I'm afraid it was more so because she needed someone to talk to about you than any charms that my conversation might hold for her."

"I am too tired to be teased by you Georgie," he said sternly while a pleasant thrill ran through him at Georgiana's words, _'could it be true,' _he wondered, _'could she really have felt my absence?'_

"But not too tired to go running to Torquay just to have a dance with her?" She chuckled at his sheepish expression as they reached his door, "go and get ready, you are quite late as it is. We shall talk tomorrow for I shall most probably be asleep by the time you get back." Darcy smiled and quickly entered his room.

He stopped his valet from preparing a bath for him as there was no time, and settled instead for a thorough wash of his hands and face. He thought of Elizabeth as his valet helped him to dress, he wondered whether she would be pleasantly surprised that he had been able to make it back in time for the ball or would she be in one of her moods that she usually fell into after having a flashback.

He fervently prayed that she would be in high spirits tonight, as he adjusted his cravat in the mirror, for God knew he needed some respite from the events of the last two weeks. He wondered if the Torquay Assembly Hall had any balconies as he slipped into his coat, and thought of ways to get Elizabeth onto one of them to have some moments with her, **alone.**

Darcy looked at his reflection one final time and quickly exited the room, mounting down the stairs in the hopes of getting intoxicated on Elizabeth's lavender. He breathed deeply as he entered the carriage once again, the thought of spending at least half an hour more on the moving vehicle making him nauseous. He stared at the darkening sky outside and prayed that they would reach the assembly hall soon, for his eyes were starved for their favourite sight.

As the carriage stopped near the Assembly Hall, Darcy spotted a number of balconies and a slow mischievous smile lit his face. He quickly stepped inside the entrance, handing his coat to the attendant amidst the noise that was coming out of the closed doors of the hall. He briefly recalled a night, much like this one, more than a year ago, at another assembly hall, the night when he met Elizabeth the very first time.

The doors opened and he entered into the noise of a typical ballroom. He spotted Izzie first and went straight to her, the Aunt and nephew greeted each other warmly.

"I am glad that you could make it on time," she told him smiling, "but looks like Miss Bennet just got snatched away by an officer," she pointed towards where a new set was forming. Darcy followed her finger and spotted Elizabeth taking her place in the set.

He did not see her partner, he did not see anyone else in the room, it was her beautiful face and form that held him spellbound as she started moving to the music. She wore a beautiful green gown, that made her dark hair and eyes stand out, which in turn brought out the milky quality of her complexion to the fore. He would have stood there staring at her all night if Izzie had not brought his attention to other matters.

"So it was your cousin Col. Fitzwilliam?" She asked him.

"Yes," he answered briefly, turning towards her.

"And the reason for the delay in his application for her hand was the fact that he does not have a stitch to his name?" She asked him this question but both of them knew that she was aware of the answer already.

**"Did **not have a stitch," Darcy corrected her, "for Aunt Myrtle did leave him a considerable sum."

"And the Earl?" She raised an eyebrow, "why did he not help his son out in his time of need?"

"You know the answer to that, I suppose," Darcy looked meaningfully at her.

"You mean because Ilythia is **my daughter?" **She asked incredulous, "surely he cannot still be holding something from that long ago against me?"

Darcy did not reply, he just kept looking pointedly at her, till she sighed in exasperation and then suddenly her face softened as they both saw a tall man with matted red hair approaching from the other side of the room.

"Good to see you Darcy," Zack clapped Darcy on the shoulder, "can I steal my wife for the next dance, I believe this one ends in a moment."

"You are early Zack," Isabella Collier's dark eyes looked lovingly at her husband as she placed a hand in the crook of his arm, "but I have always had a thing for punctual gentlemen."

"Is that why you accep…," their voices faded away as the moved towards the other side of the room. There was still time till the dance ended, Darcy felt suffocated in the hall and started walking towards the balcony at the back of the Assembly Hall when he spotted the Col. and his fiancée going down a set. Darcy smiled and bowed his head in congratulations to the couple, which both of them returned by smiling contentedly at him.

He stepped out on the balcony and closed the door behind him. As he sat by the window, he relaxed and inhaled the night air deeply. It was a beautiful starlit night, there was just one thing missing, a beautiful girl in a green dress whose eyes danced more than her body. He wished that she would just come out to the balcony, so he could tell her what was in his heart.

The music inside came to a stop and the door opened after a few minutes, Darcy groaned inwardly, knowing that he would have to go back inside now. But he could barely suppress his joy at the happy coincidence when he saw Elizabeth walk out on the balcony and go straight to the railing, unaware of his presence. He took her appearance in from his station by the window, her gown was quite low cut from the back, exposing her creamy skin and slender neck to the best of advantage, her earrings dangled near the side of her neck, kissing it as she moved her head. Darcy slowly got up from the bench and took the few steps that brought him close to her and within the circle of her enticing fragrance. He inhaled deeply.

"What are you doing out here, Miss Bennet," he asked bending a little towards her as she jumped in surprise, "when all the amusement is in there?"

She turned towards him and he mastered the impulse of brushing his knuckles down her flawless skin with great difficulty. If she was beautiful from afar, she was absolutely breathtaking from up close. He could hardly believe the emotions that coursed through him at her sight as his starved eyes savoured the delicate beauty in front of them. But something was amiss, he frowned as she turned her back to him again. Darcy felt on edge at the thought of something disturbing to have occurred in his absence and extremely worried at the sight of her eyes welling up as she faced him once again.

He drew nearer, wanting to comfort her and just as he raised his arms to embrace her she almost flew into them of her own accord. Darcy's arms quickly maintained a strong hold on her trembling body, wracked with sobs. He felt wretched as he stroked her back, even though he had wanted to feel the silkiness of her skin, he could never relish it as she stood crying on his chest. Before long her sobs ceased and he led her to sit on the bench after wiping off her tears with his fingers.

And then she opened up to him, about her dreams and her fears. Darcy did not know whether to rejoice in the fact that she had been dreaming, albeit unknowingly, of him or to feel dejected that his dream self was the reason behind her distress. As the narrative went on, Elizabeth revealed that she had remembered being engaged to someone in her past and that now she was scared that he would come someday to claim her. Again Darcy did not know whether to be sad that she was afraid of her fiancé, which was himself, to come for her or elated that she did not want him because she now wanted **him.**

But if Darcy was one thing, it was purposeful and that day his purpose had been to make her his own, and though her state of mind was not such that to welcome a proposal on that moment, he could at least ease her mind and lay the groundwork for an acceptance in the near future. So it was that Darcy set about putting her mind at ease, even if it meant dissuading her from the topic of her memories, the memories that were all about him.

Tell me," he asked her when he became sure that she was sufficiently relaxed, "are you happy, right now?"

"The happiest I have ever been," she replied, a beautiful smile on her lips.

"Then there you have your answer," he said in a satisfied tone, she looked a little in awe at him and he indeed felt quite proud of his powers of persuasion in that moment.

They sat on the balcony in a companionable silence for sometime. Darcy felt somewhat tired after the long journey and the discussion he had just had with Elizabeth. Although he had fantasized about spending sometime on the balcony with her, it had not included her crying on his chest, though he infinitely preferred that she vented her pent up emotions on his chest than on anybody else's. He wondered what would be the right time to ask for her hand if she kept on moving to and fro as a result of her dreams like this.

It had become a pattern with her lately, she would start warming up to him and then suddenly something or another, mostly Darcy himself, would trigger a memory and she would become depressed once again and start to avoid him. Darcy frowned, maybe he should give her some more time to adjust to her memories, but rejected this thought immediately. He would find a way to get through to her before she left for Hertfordshire, for he was damned if he was letting her go away without some kind of assurance that she would always come back to him.

Darcy relaxed at this thought and became quite oblivious to Elizabeth's presence by his side as his mind started to drift off into sleep, giving in to the demands of his tired body.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth's voice pulled him out of the nap that had not even commenced properly yet, "have you fallen asleep?"

"Hm?" He looked dazedly at her as she stood in front of him in all her glory and told her, "you look enchanting tonight."

But instead of blushing or teasing him to do away with her embarrassment, she went into a peal of laughter. Darcy blinked at her, unaware that he had said anything even remotely amusing.

"You are the second gentleman to compliment me in the very same words," she dimpled at him, "and the first one was rather vehement in elaborating on this statement."

"Rather vehement," Darcy snapped out of his dazed state and stood up to his full height, "what do you mean by rather vehement?"

"Well," she looked quite mischievous, "not only did he tell me how enchanting I was, he also elaborated in detail and at length on my many enchantments that had enchanted him so fully that he doubted that he had ever been or could ever be so enchanted again, and thus ended his enchanting speech."

"Well then he fulfilled the criteria of both being besotted and inebriated," Darcy said dryly, seething inside at the audacity of the unknown man.

"Mr. Darcy are you implying that no one who is not inebriated can find me enchanting?" She arched an eyebrow at him.

"Twisting my words again, Miss Bennet," he drawled lazily, "now come the Waltz is about to begin and I want to see how my pupil performs." He held out a hand to her.

"But nobody has asked me to dance yet?" She tilted her head, making her earrings sway and Darcy's heart skipped a beat at the pretty picture she made in the dim light sifting through the curtains that covered the windows.

"And nobody will," he said resolutely, his hand still outstretched, "for you shall dance with nobody but me." He watched as she blushed lightly and placed her small hand in his, Darcy quickly closed his fingers around it, in a rather tight grip.

"I shall ignore the highhanded manner in which you have procured my hand," she looked impishly up at him as they moved towards the door of the balcony, "only because I dearly love to dance and being outside for more than half an hour has left me sans any partners."

"You are allowed to justify your actions in whichever words you think appropriate," Darcy teased her right back as he held the door open for her, "but the truth of the matter is that you would not have found a better partner than me to Waltz with, tonight." Elizabeth opened her mouth to retort but he silenced her with, "and yes, I am quite conceited, thank you very much."

Darcy stared adoringly as she threw back her head and laughed, his eyes lingering on the bent of her long beautiful neck. They quickly took their place among the many couples who were taking positions and waiting for the dance to begin. Darcy took Elizabeth's hand into his own and placed his other one on her back just as the music started.

"Dare I ask which gentleman had the pleasure of being enchanted by you?" Darcy could hardly suppress his jealousy and curiosity, "was it the officer you ran off to dance with as soon as I entered?"

"Indeed I did not run off with anyone," Elizabeth looked indignantly at him as they moved to the left, "nor did I enchant anyone."

"You did run off and you are enchanting," he kept on arguing and she kept on blushing as they moved to the music.

"What would I run off from?" Elizabeth looked archly at him.

"The truth," he replied simply.

"And what truth would that be?" She asked in surprise.

"That you are indeed looking beautiful in this colour tonight," he could not help but voice some of what was in his heart.

"I thank you," she looked away then, "green is my favourite colour."

"I know," he rotated them both expertly as the music changed.

"How do you know?" She was obviously surprised.

"I observe," Darcy noticed the sudden pallor of her face with alarm but before he could say anything, she spoke up.

"Nowadays, everything sounds familiar," she sighed and said quietly, "everything leads to a flashback. This ball, your words, it is as though all this has happened before, and yet I know that it has not."

"Do not let the past meddle with this moment, Miss Bennet," he told her in a soft tone, "think only of what you are feeling in this instant," he told her as his fingers lightly brushed the exposed skin below her neck, and she almost lost her step, her cheeks flaming over.

"I am sorry about your Aunt," she said after they had caught up with the music again. Darcy sighed and nodded.

"She was quite old and all alone as well," he said sadly.

"Your trip must have been a sad one then," she said looking penetratingly at him, Darcy frowned, _'could it be that Mrs. Bingley has already told her about my involvement in the matter of Miss Lydia and Wickham?'_

"Yes, but Mr. and Mrs, Bingley and of course Sir Wuf kept me company," he said lightly, trying to change the topic and stepping around her.

"How is the little one?" Elizabeth smiled as she asked.

"It did not fare the journey well," Darcy told her, "so I left it in the care of your sister."

"Have you given it to Jane?" She seemed surprised and somewhat miffed as well.

"Only until I get back," he replied and saw her features relaxing.

"Are you not afraid that he might forget you?" She asked as they rotated and Darcy winced, if Elizabeth, who claimed undying love for him, could forget him, why couldn't Sir Wuf?

"It may," he agreed sadly, his hold on her going lax all of a sudden, "unfortunately my experience tells me that I am not unforgettable."

"Your experience with whom?" She asked in surprise as he moved them both to his left, her hand placed firmly on his shoulder.

"Generally," he tried to act nonchalant, but it did still hurt him at times to think that she had forgotten him, even though he knew that it was not intentional.

"Your experience has misled you Mr. Darcy," he looked down and saw a fire burning in her eyes, his grip on her hand increased unintentionally.

"Oh?" he could not say anything else for he was holding his breath in anticipation for even he did not know what.

"Nobody who has met you could ever forget you," she said earnestly and without averting her eyes, "take me for instance, even though I did forget a large portion of my life, I still did not forget you."

"But you do not remember our meeting at Pemberley," he pointed out, _'and you did forget me Elizabeth,' _he cried inside, _'you did.'_

"I am not talking about a few meetings," she argued in her typical determined style, knitting her eyebrows, "I am talking about your **existence," **her words left Darcy stunned, "and even though memories are precious things and losing them can be traumatic but still, one can create new and more significant ones. However a person once completely erased from your recollection cannot be recreated and," she stopped and looked down somewhat shyly, "I am glad that **you **were not that person in my memories that I forgot completely about."

Darcy found breathing a little difficult just then, he had never looked at her memory loss in quite that light before. And he was sure that he had won her regard again only because some part of her heart remembered him, even though her mind did not. Suddenly he was thankful that she had not forgotten completely about him, that she had retained some part of their acquaintance, no matter how unpleasant.

"I…I had never thought about your memory loss with this view before," he told her as his fingers brushed the skin of her back where the fabric was cut quite low, "and indeed, I am also glad that you did not forget me completely.

"So you see…," she did not complete her sentence as Darcy's warm fingers caressed her skin again, "Mr. Darcy," she looked somewhat sternly at him but Darcy reacted only by pulling her closer, "I do believe that you are also suffering from some kind of selective amnesia yourself."

"How so?" His leg brushed hers, quite intentionally as she looked up at him in disapproval, which he told himself was nothing serious.

"Mr. Darcy," she looked at him in exasperation, "have you forgotten how to Waltz?"

"Why?" He asked in a haze as the feel of her soft body against his kept robbing him of his faculties.

"This is not the correct posture for a Waltz," she mimicked him from the day of the practice.

"Why do you not let me be the judge of what is the correct or incorrect posture," his eyes caressed her flushed skin, "after all I am the expert."

"Mr. Darcy, loosen your grip right now," she now looked quite serious, "or I will not come to Brookridge for Christmas breakfast tomorrow."

That sentence effectively dampened Darcy's ardour, as he quickly moved his hand to the right position and his grip relaxed, though not too much. Darcy slowly moved the last time with Elizabeth as the dance came to an end and applause erupted in the room. Elizabeth gave him one severe look and quickly moved away to join Miss Trent. To Darcy's chagrin, he did not get a chance to talk to her or to dance with her for the rest of the night.

So when the time came for the two neighbouring families to depart, Darcy almost ran to get her coat.

"You are coming tomorrow, are you not?" He asked a little apprehensively as he helped her slip her coat on.

"Why do you ask?" She did not turn around as she buttoned her coat up.

"You know why," Darcy said meaningfully as he stared at her head and got into his own coat.

"I most certainly do not," she turned towards him slightly and her confusion was apparent from her face.

"Then you shall tomorrow," he offered her his arm as all of them proceeded outside to the carriages.

"Tell me right now Mr. Darcy," she placed her hand on his arm as they started to walk out the doors of the Assembly Hall, "I cannot abide being in suspense."

"So I have been told," he replied dryly, his mind drifting momentarily to the day of her accident, when she had uttered almost the same words.

"By whom?" She looked completely puzzled as he handed her into the carriage and ignored her question, after all a chance to perplex the ever confident Miss Bennet came only a few times in one life span.

"Until tomorrow," he let go of her hand and bowed, his blue eyes alight with mischief, hope and happiness.

**Next Chapter: The Letter She Wrote and the Conversation He Overheard**


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38: The Letter She Wrote and the Conversation He Overheard**

A tired Elizabeth entered her room at Sleighton Manor and threw herself on the bed, something that she seldom did, for she rarely got tired. But her nerves had been on edge for the whole time that Mr. Darcy had been away and now that he had come back and relieved her of all her worries, she truly felt that she could put the past behind and be at ease. In fact she felt so much at ease that she would not even have bothered to change if it had not been for the corset that was almost choking her now that she had had dinner.

One by one she removed her clothing and stepped into her night gown, took down her hair and brushed it before finally making it to the bed and lazily slipping under the covers. She had been afraid to close her eyes previously, but tonight she had no such fear, Mr. Darcy had asked her to live in the moment and that was exactly what she was going to do. But she decided not to live in **this **moment, but in the one that she had spent in his arms on the balcony and in the hall.

On the morning of the Christmas, Elizabeth woke up from a surprisingly dreamless sleep, refreshed and excited for the day. She quickly got dressed in her new Christmas clothes that were a gift from Mrs. Trent, a coral muslin gown that a seamstress had sown to perfection and showed Elizabeth's figure to the best of advantage. As she had gotten ready quite early, she decided to read Jane's letter, a reminder of home when she was far away. Elizabeth had only read half of it when she heard a knock at the door, she quickly deposited the letter into the pocket of her dress and opened the door to find Rose looking quite pretty in her new yellow gown that brought out the hazel of her eyes, which were especially starry that day.

Though they were invited to a Christmas breakfast at the Colliers, still everyone took some light refreshments with tea, for they did not want their stomachs to grumble in the church during the sermon. When they arrived at the church, the Colliers were already there, with Col. Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, but no Mr. Darcy. Both the families and their guests greeted each other along with their other neighbours and Elizabeth was just determining to ask Georgiana where her brother was when she volunteered the information herself.

"William is slightly unwell," she told her in a low voice, "nothing serious though, but he has been slightly feverish ever since he came back from the town, and the ball last night has fatigued him even more. Aunt Izzie gave him something for his fever last night that made him quite sleepy," her eyes twinkled a little, "therefore she decided not to wake him up for church today."

"He is not too unwell I suppose?" Elizabeth asked in alarm and a little guilt for she was sure that he came to the ball for her.

"Oh no, not at all," Georgiana reassured her smiling fondly, "and if he found out that the news of his alleged illness has been spread so maliciously abroad, he would be quite irked for he considers himself quite invincible when it comes to fatigue and illnesses."

Elizabeth laughed heartily at the picture Georgiana had painted as they moved towards the pews, and she was quite sure of it being a faithful portrayal, for Mr. Darcy did seem like the sort who never admitted to being ill and was sure that his Aunt would not have had an easy time of making him take the medicine.

The sermon went on as the elders of the community listened to the Vicar quietly, the youth in eyeing their beloveds and the children in whispering schemes of what they were going to do after it ended. It was almost the same everywhere. Elizabeth thought of the Christmases she had spent at Hertfordshire and she felt a pang of sadness. Papa's letter still had not come and she had begun to get restless for news from back home and the arrangements that had been made for her travel back to Longbourn.

As the sermon went on, Elizabeth thought of what everyone must be doing at home. Mama must be busy planning for the upcoming wedding, Lydia equally so, Mary in her usual pursuit of how to become accomplished and Kitty must be thinking of some gentleman or another with Maria Lucas. And Papa, she almost winced at the thought of how disappointed and forlorn must her father be after Lydia's indiscretion. She wondered vaguely, as the Vicar's voice droned on, if he had realized his own fault in the whole debacle.

She sighed and turned slightly to find Mr. Mark and Rose looking surreptitiously at each other and smiled, wondering whether he would propose soon or will the game of courtship be prolonged to take utmost pleasure in it. Her eyes moved on to the two young couples sitting in front of her then, holding hands, no doubt. A double marriage sounded exciting, but she would be long gone by then, to Longbourn, to home.

Although she was not looking forward to attending Lydia's wedding, in no manner would she be able to avoid it either. The fact that Jane and the Gardiners would be there was some consolation at least. The thought of Lydia and her fiancé, inevitably brought Mr. Darcy to her mind and with him came the sense of gratitude at what he had done for her family, when indeed he owed them nothing. The notion that he was the most generous of men was strengthened to a belief now, and even though she would never let him know that she was aware of his kind deed, she could at least thank him in her heart and through her manner.

As the sermon came to an end, Mr. and Mrs. Collier once again bade the Trents, the Johnsons and the Watsons to come to Brookridge Hall directly, everyone readily agreed, Mr. Edward Johnson more readily than the rest, his eyes firmly plastered to Elizabeth's face, and the carriages rolled towards the Collier's house.

As they reached the house, a beautiful sight awaited them, the breakfast was set under a canopy in the grounds and instead of one large table, multiple smaller ones were set up. Elizabeth felt a moment's panic at the sight of the smaller tables, as she was sure that with Mr. Darcy still absent there was no one left to save her from Mr. Edward Johnson's penchant for getting **enchanted** and therefore he might try to secure a seat for her on the same table as him.

"Rose I beg you do not leave me alone for even a second," she whispered in her friend's ear, "for I do not think that Mr. Edward Johnson's intentions are strictly honourable."

"I might have been able to do something for you dear friend," Rose giggled at her plight, "if Mr. Mark was willing to leave me to my own devises for even a second, but as it is…," she did not get to finish her sentence as Mr. Mark materialized out of thin air right at that moment, by their side.

"Miss Bennet," he bowed graciously to Elizabeth, "I hope you would not mind very much if I steal your friend away to my table." And even though Elizabeth minded very much, she thought it better not to voice what was in her mind.

"Of course," she smiled through clenched teeth and watched them walk away to another table, turned around and found herself face to face with the dreaded (and enchanted) Mr. Edward.

But before Mr. Edward could claim to be charmed **yet **again or she deny to take any part in making him so, Bella whisked in and dragged her to a table where Georgiana was already seated. Never had Elizabeth felt more sympathetic towards the youngest Collier.

"Oh Bella," she cried once she had settled down, "never have I been more glad for someone's interference in…," her speech of gratitude was cut short, by a nasal voice coming from the other side.

"Miss Isabella," Elizabeth turned around to find a shorter, lankier and bespectacled version of Mr. Edward, "we do not have any place to sit," he drawled in a mocking tone, "and I know that you would hate for us to be seated together," and then he dragged out a chair next to Bella and sat down upon it, "but unfortunately, there is nothing else to be done."

Before any of them could react, another chair got pulled next to Elizabeth as Mr. Edward Johnson took a seat by her. Elizabeth turned towards Georgiana and she seemed quite baffled with the whole scenario as well. Bella however seemed as unperturbed as ever and pretended as if she neither heard, nor saw the two brothers.

"I for one am extremely glad that Ilythia got engaged to the Col.," she told Elizabeth happily, "for everyone has forgotten all about what happened at the day of the archery competition, and forgiven me wholeheartedly."

"Indeed," Elizabeth looked towards Georgiana to observe her response to this and she smiled back at her, albeit a little hesitantly.

The food got served amidst Mr. Matthew Johnson throwing barbs at Bella and her ignoring them and Mr. Edward Johnson throwing compliments at Elizabeth and her ignoring them. Georgiana however stayed resolutely quiet until the meal ended. As the tables got cleared up and older couples drifted off towards a terrace, Bella asked everyone to gather around.

"I hope that none of us want to sit around and gaze at each other," here she looked pointedly at her sisters, who promptly blushed and averted their eyes, "we should play some game, instead."

Her suggestion was lapped up by all but Col. Fitzwilliam who declared that he was too old to play parlour games, but Bella's persuasive powers were quickly brought forth as was a suggestion to play sardines. Elizabeth again felt a moment's panic at the thought of becoming Mr. Edward Johnson's sardine for he was eyeing her quite meaningfully then, and prayed hard that she was not the one chosen to hide first.

"All of you know the rules I suppose," Mr. Mark said, "but I shall repeat them nonetheless, just so that everyone is clear about them. One person shall be chosen to hide inside the house and after waiting for a suitable time, all of us would go looking for them. Anyone who finds the person in hiding shall hide with that person, till such a time as everyone has found them. Is that clear?"

Elizabeth could hardly cheer like the rest, for the only person she wanted to find or be found by, was not to be found. She stayed deep in thought at Mr. Darcy persistent absence, when suddenly Mr. Mark was telling her that she was the person who was going to hide.

"What," Elizabeth cried in alarm, "how did you come to that decision?"

"I asked the ones who did not want to hide to take a step back and you are the only one who did not," he looked at her with a broad smile on his face.

"But I was not paying attention," she complained as she turned around to find everyone at her back.

"So pay some now," he said resolutely, "for you are going to hide on the first floor only, the second floor is out of bounds as it is the family wing, and the ground floor because all the parents are lounging about in one or another corner of it."

Elizabeth huffed and looked at Rose with eyes that said, _'Brutus' _and started to walk towards the house with quick angry steps. But she quickly calmed down as she entered the house and mounted up the stairs to the first floor, and got into the spirit of the game. She opened the first door and it looked like a kind of parlour room for casual use and no place to hide. Elizabeth quickly moved on, skipping a few doors until she reached another closed door, she opened it a crack and it was a bedroom, she sighed with relief for bedrooms always have spaces to hide in. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She walked towards the window and looked down to see that everyone had started to move towards the house, Elizabeth quickly turned around and that was when she noticed the neatly laid out gentlemen's clothes on the bed.

For a moment she froze, but relaxed immediately when she thought that this room must be set up for Col. Fitzwilliam since the rest of the family stayed on the second floor. Heaving a sigh of relief she decided not to go out looking for another place to hide for soon all the seekers would be hard upon her heels. She looked around and saw an armoire in a corner, it seemed large enough to accommodate her small frame, she approached the wardrobe and opened it to find shelves stacked with clothes on one side, and coats hanging in the other. Elizabeth quickly stepped inside the hanging section but try as she might, the door would not click shut so she pulled it as close as possible and prayed that Mr. Edward Johnson would not find her first.

For some minutes there was no sound and then she heard two men talking in low voices, a door opening and closing and then a key turning in the lock. Elizabeth's heart thudded wildly inside her chest, at the thought of being found by the voluble Mr. Edward. She heard someone moving around in the room and peeped out from the slit between the doors of the armoire.

If her heart was thudding before, it was positively threatening to burst out of her chest at the sight in front of her. It was Mr. Darcy, in a bath robe, standing near the window and looking outside. She knew that she should avert her eyes, close them tightly shut in fact, if she wanted to avoid looking at him, but that day was the day that Elizabeth Bennet found out the meaning of knowing something to be wrong but being too tempted to do it anyway.

She stared open mouthed at his profile as he raked his hands through his wet hair, tousling it a little. The sunlight from the outside lightened his complexion and made his deep blue eyes seem lighter than they were. He looked taller somehow, even though he was not wearing boots but just slippers. Her eyes moved down a bit to his chest but she quickly averted them then, the gravity of her situation forcing itself upon her for the first time. It was highly inappropriate for her to be there, let alone ogle him like she just did. Elizabeth tightly shut her eyes and drifted further into the corner, as she slipped down the side of the wardrobe to sit down on its floor, Jane's letter fluttered down near her foot, she quickly picked it up and pushed it down the pocket of her dress, trying not to make any noise and praying really hard that Mr. Darcy would not find her there.

But just as her prayer ended, so did her solitude, for the doors of the armoire were thrown wide open and the coat hangers moved to make an opening through which she could clearly be seen.

"Miss Bennet," Mr. Darcy's shocked voice reached her ears, forcing her to shut her eyes even more tightly, "what in the name of everything that is holy, are you doing in my wardrobe?"

"Mr. Darcy," she answered in as calm a voice as she could muster, with her eyes still tightly shut, "I can explain, please, I beg you, do not be angry, it was just a game."

"I am not angry Miss Bennet," his voice relaxed and lost some of its edge, "merely astonished. But why are you not opening your eyes?" His tone now sounded puzzled.

"Well," Elizabeth did not know how to explain the fact that his **attire **was highly inappropriate for her to see him in, he should know this himself, "ahem," she cleared her throat, "your…um…I…well I am afraid," she blurted out in the end.

"Of what?" He sounded exasperated now.

"Y-your…ahem…err…Mr. Darcy are you dressed?" She decided to take the bull by the horns and asked him directly.

"Miss Bennet why on Earth would you ask me such a question," he sounded indignant now, "do you think I would be asking you to open your eyes if I were not?"

Elizabeth slowly opened one and then both her eyes that rested on Mr. Darcy wearing both his trousers and his shirt, though the shirt was not fully buttoned up, and good God did he look handsome, her heartbeat accelerated alarmingly as he stood all flustered in front of her.

"Oh thank God," she sighed with relief as her heartbeat slowed down. Mr. Darcy frowned at her for a moment before understanding and then embarrassment dawned on his face.

"Miss Bennet," he cried again as colour rose up his neck, "how could you?"

"I did not mean to," she replied awkwardly as she looked up at him, "I swear Mr. Darcy, I would never do such a thing on purpose."

"How did you come to be in here in the first place?" He was staring at her rather oddly now and Elizabeth suddenly felt very self-conscious.

"I…can I come out before I answer?" She asked somewhat sheepishly, "looking at you from my station at the floor of the wardrobe is making my neck ache," her eyes twinkled at him then, "you really are too tall Mr. Darcy."

Mr. Darcy's lips twitched slightly as he stepped closer and gave her his hand to help her out of the armoire. Elizabeth placed her hand a little hesitantly in his, her pulse throbbing at her wrist where he gripped her firmly and pulled her up, but before she could maintain her balance, she tripped and smashed into his chest, taking him down with her. Elizabeth gasped as they, or rather Mr. Darcy collided with the floor and she fell heavily on his chest, some incoherent noises escaping them.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth called him a little worriedly from atop him, after he had made no noise or movement for some moments and his eyes also stayed resolutely closed, "Mr. Darcy, are you all right?"

"Yes," he breathed as his hands moved to grip her waist.

"Then why are you not opening your eyes?" She asked a little bewildered and also a little nauseous by his proximity.

"Because I am afraid," he said softly and Elizabeth could smell mint on his breath.

"Of what?" She tried to sit up in order to stop her heart that was now beating at a rather wild pace against his chest.

"Of your reaction," he told her as one of his hands moved to her back and stopped her from trying to get up.

"My reaction to what, Mr. Darcy?" She was trying really hard to breathe now, but when Mr. Darcy finally opened his eyes, the passion reflected there quite knocked out her remaining breath altogether.

"To this," he whispered as his other hand moved to the nape of her neck and slowly pushed her face down until her eyes could see nothing but his lips.

His lips, Good God his lips, Elizabeth suddenly felt incredibly apprehensive for her whole body was pressed against his, their faces so close they could feel each other's breath. But as Mr. Darcy's lips softly touched her eyelid, her eyes fluttered shut and her anxieties all flew out the window, but her heart, oh her heart, it just kept on pounding until she was gripping his shoulders like her life depended on it. His lips were soft, and the kiss even softer, but the intensity of that simple touch was scorching, as his lips slid from one eyelid to the other without breaking contact with her skin, she felt ablaze from head to foot.

"Was I right to be afraid?" He whispered against her cheek now, his breath tickling her skin and sending shivers down her body.

"I…," she did not know what she was going to say as all thought fled her mind when his hot lips grazed the soft skin of her cheek.

"Tell me," he insisted as his lips traveled down her face, making her skin tingle. She did not answer, she could not answer, how could she speak when breathing alone seemed like a barely manageable task at that moment?

"You are wearing lavender again?" He asked in a melting voice.

Elizabeth dared to open her dark eyes to find them exactly opposite his clear blue ones, their noses almost touching, their lips ready to meet in the long awaited first kiss of love. She opened her mouth to reply then but…

**Knock…Knock…Knock**

And just like that, a knock on the door broke the magic that was speedily building up between them. They quickly jerked apart as Mr. Darcy groaned and jumped to his feet, taking her with him. The sound of knocking was heard again as they stood rooted to the spot, staring at each other.

…**..**

Elizabeth did not know how she walked down the steps to the ground floor where all the young people were assembled, she was not aware if it was stairs she stepped on or clouds, she did not even know whether she walked or glided. As she approached the noisy crowd of youngsters who were hurling playful accusations at her for hiding somewhere other that the second floor, she felt odd for a moment that she could not hear them. Their lips moved but no sound reached her, it was as though she was in a vacuum, where only one person's voice could reach her, the same person the heat of whose touch she could still feel on her eyes.

She shrugged at the sight of the laughing people in front of her for though she could not laugh like them, she was sure that none of them could feel the joy that threatened to burst her heart any moment now. She looked towards Rose and saw worry in her eyes.

"Are you all right Lizzy?" She asked stepping closer to her, "you did not have a flashback up there did you?"

A flashback? Elizabeth would have laughed then, she could not even remember ever having any at that point. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Darcy alone occupied every thought she had ever thought, every memory she remembered, every breath she had ever taken. She smiled reassuringly at her friend, still not having mastered the power to utter anything.

"Darcy, what did Mrs. Collier give you last night?" Col. Fitzwilliam suddenly shouted, "I have never seen you wake up so late in the morning."

Elizabeth turned around to find him lazily descending down the stairs, her heart constricted once, twice and then she thought it better to turn away, sure that she would not be able to look at him, or into his eyes which were inevitably going to turn towards her.

"How do you feel now William?" Miss Collier asked him in concern as he neared them.

"I have never felt better, I assure you," the answer was obviously meant for her, and produced the desired effect in the form of a blush that quickly spread on her neck and face.

"William never admits to being ill anyways," Georgiana approached her brother and linked her arm through his, "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Georgie," he said softly.

"Let us go outside now," Bella suggested and everyone followed suit.

It was a beautiful day and everyone sat in groups. Elizabeth joined Rose and Mr. Mark with the Col. and Miss Collier. Mr. Darcy went to the other side of the grounds with Georgiana and they walked together, whispering in each others ears and smiling contently. Elizabeth tried but failed miserably to pay any attention to what was being said around her until the afternoon tea was announced and everyone went inside to the dinning parlour where Mr. Darcy was quick to secure a seat by her, though nobody would have guessed it to look at him.

Never had a simple event like an afternoon tea seemed so full of meaning to Elizabeth. She was seated with the man she loved, whose hand was repeatedly touching hers, making it difficult for her to partake any of the delectable pastries in front of her. After finishing with whatever little she could mange to eat, she quickly removed her hand off the table and placed it in her lap, sighing in relief at last.

But she had grossly underestimated Mr. Darcy's boldness, for no sooner than she had placed her hand securely in her lap, he placed his own on it. Flushing to the roots of her hair, she tried to wriggle hers out of his grasp but he increased his grip as he nonchalantly sipped the tea and said something to the Col. and dragged her hand to between their chairs, imprisoning it there for the rest of the meal, releasing it only when the necessity of leaving the table made it impossible to stay connected through their hands anymore.

As the day drew on Elizabeth found herself walking the grounds with Mrs. Collier, talking about mundane occurrences.

"I never congratulated you on Miss Collier's engagement with Col. Fitzwilliam, Mrs. Collier," Elizabeth smiled at the tall genial woman and Mrs. Collier smiled back.

"Six years," she said thoughtfully as she looked at her beautiful daughter walking with her fiancé in the distance, "they waited six years to be together."

"I wonder why the needed to wait that long," Elizabeth stated absently and then crimsoned over at her slip, "I apologize Mrs. Collier," Elizabeth quickly looked at her, "I did not mean to pry."

"You are right to question child," she waved a hand in the air to dismiss her apology, "and rich as we are, even we need money to survive on."

"But is not the Col.'s father an Earl?" Elizabeth's eyebrows knit in confusion, "one would have thought that if anything, money would not have been an issue for his family."

"Money was not," Mrs. Collier told her dryly, "resentment was. It was because of an old grudge that the Earl refused to support his son's marriage to my daughter."

"But a resentment against whom?" Elizabeth still felt at a loss.

"Against me," the older woman replied quietly and it took Elizabeth only a moment to realize that Mr. Darcy's aunt who rejected the Earl's proposal was Mrs. Collier, "implacable resentment is a failing that runs in the blood of all Fitzwilliams."

"I remember Mr. Darcy once admitting to having this particular trait in his character as well," Elizabeth said reminiscing on that conversation she had had with Mr. Darcy a long time ago at Netherfield Park.

"William is too hard on himself sometimes," she replied with a half smile.

"But sometimes you cannot help but feel a certain kind of bitterness towards an individual, that no amount of pleasant interactions can outdo," she sighed as her mind went towards the pleasant faced monster that was Wickham and she could not help but feel the justice of Mr. Darcy's words from more than a year ago, _'my good opinion once lost is lost forever.'_

"How do you mean?" Mrs. Collier looked penetratingly at her.

"It is just that…well," Elizabeth hesitated for a moment but then decided to go on, "a man tried to hurt my most beloved sister once, and even though he has made amends now, I still do not think that I would ever be able to take him in a purely amiable light again. There would always be one part of me that would hate him for what he almost did."

They heard a sharp intake of breath from behind and turned around to find Mr. Darcy standing right behind them. Elizabeth paled immediately. Jane had specifically told her not to mention anything even remotely connected to Mr. Wickham in front of Mr. Darcy and she was sure that he would have guessed who she meant if he had heard any part of what she had just said. Elizabeth prayed fervently that he was just that moment arrived and did not happen to hear her.

"Are you all right William," Mrs. Collier's question brought her out of her reverie and she looked up to see Mr. Darcy's face looking a little flushed as he looked at her oddly, his bright eyes clouded for some reason.

"I…I just came to inform you that I shall be retiring to my room now," he said in a barely audible voice, "I feel my fever coming on again."

"Of course," Mrs. Collier nodded, "you should rest."

"Miss Bennet," he bowed to her formally, his face grave.

"Mr. Darcy," she curtseyed and looked worriedly up to find him already turning around.

She watched him in concern as he took swift deliberate steps towards the house without once looking back and disappeared through the front door. Georgiana had told her that he never took his illnesses seriously, but she hoped that he would now and take ample rest to recover soon.

Only a little while later, the Trents' carriage was ordered and all of them left for Sleighton after bidding a cordial farewell to Mr. Mark, Miss Collier, Miss Irene and Col. Fitzwilliam for they were to leave for town on the morrow. Elizabeth looked up towards the window that she now knew to belong to Mr. Darcy's room, and thought she saw a shadow lurking there, but then shook her head at her silliness.

On the carriage ride back to the house, her spirits recovered again. She knew that Mr. Darcy's illness could be nothing serious, after all he had behaved in a perfectly brazen manner all day and that thought brought a blush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips. The rest of the day was spent in pleasant conversation. Lt. Trent was leaving the next morning. Therefore a special dinner was prepared, attended by both Miss Irene and Mr. Mark, who kept looking forlornly at Rose.

Elizabeth entered her room to retire for the night, tired but happy in the knowledge that Mr. Darcy was feeling quite healthy once again, If Miss Irene was to be believed. She could barely contain her excitement at the thought that tomorrow she would meet him again. As she removed her new gown and placed it on the bed, Jane's letter once again fluttered down.

Elizabeth bent down to pick it up, but then her eyes narrowed. It was not Jane's letter. It seemed like a letter so much perused that its edges looked worn and had started to turn somewhat. Elizabeth hastily opened it to find the sheet full and as her eyes dropped down to the end of the sheet, she saw her own name and recognized her own hand. She quickly turned the page around and as her eyes rested on the name of the person to whom the letter was addressed, she almost stopped breathing. It was a letter to Mr. Darcy **from her. **With trembling hands and a swiftly beating heart, she sat down on the bed to read a letter that she had no recollection of ever having written.

_My Dear Mr. Darcy,_

_I know that you asked (told rather forcefully) me to call you by your Christian name, but for just this last time I would like to address you by a name that I have known you by, that my mind associates with you, that my heart beats at the sound of. Do not frown so for I assure you that from this day on I shall practiceusing your Christian name in both my mind and my heart._

_I have no experience of writing a romantic letter before, but I shall endeavour to rival your skills, as according to Miss Bingley, you write such 'charming long letters' of which I also happen to have proof since you wrote me one at Kent. But I beg to differ from the admirer of your letter writing skills in this, for though your letter was long, it was by no means charming. Such dry manner. I hope Mr. Darcy that you shall do better the next time you write to me._

_Speaking of Hunsford, I shall like to clarify something and then we shall never talk about that evening again, except to tease each other. Not only was my behaviour that day extremely ill-mannered, it was also like wise ill-judged. If I had known your true worth then, as I do now, I assure you my answer if not an affirmative, at least would have been far more polite._

_How hard hearted you must have thought me then, for that is what my manner that day showed me to be. But believe me when I tell you that your letter worked such a change in me, and with such rapidity that when we met in Pemberley, it was as though I was prepared to fall in love with you immediately. Of course, overhearing your conversation with Georgiana and seeing you at the ball also helped, not to forget my detailed inquisition of your friend and deep analysis of the circumstances by my sister. It was as though everything and everyone was plotting to make me think of you all the time and with pleasure._

_These past few days at your beautiful house helped strengthen my regard for you, little by little. I cannot believe that I ever thought you selfish, for you are one of the most altruistic people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. I do not know if you have noticed, and it is a little embarrassing to admit, but I have been observing you and your interactions with and behaviour towards people around you, and I can safely and very happily say that you are just such a man to suit me in disposition and outlook._

_I am aware that we are very different in character and perhaps opinions too, and that may mean that there might be a lot of arguments and bickering lined up in our future, but as long as you promise to concede after a while, I do not have a problem with it. Of course I always have to have the last word in all our petty rows, for how else would you prove your undying devotion to me? Oh I cannot stop joking about everything, I know, but today I especially cannot help it, for I am too happy._

_My dearest one, I know that you have suffered horribly at the hand of my hasty judgments and I promise to keep on making amends as long as I live. I might sometimes be belligerent or stubborn, but I would always trust and respect your opinion, for you are rather clever, if I may say so. Never think that your views, opinions and wishes are secondary to me, for even if I cannot agree to them, they would always hold value for me._

_I suppose you know enough of my disposition to deduce that my love for you is not a superficial emotion but a deep feeling, for naught else could have prevailed upon me to accept your hand in marriage. And now that I have, slave that I am to my heart's desires, it has made me the happiest of creatures._

_The moment you asked me to be yours in the Portrait Gallery, was a moment most profound in my life, second only to when I said yes. No words have ever been sweeter, no gaze more fervent, no touch more tender than the one you bestowed upon me this morning. I have no qualms in now admitting that I have been wanting just such an event to take place when I entered the gallery, for my need to see you was intense enough not only to drag me there but also to get caught brushing my fingers over your portrait. But let us not dwell on anything embarrassing today, you shall have time enough to mock me about it afterwards._

_It is getting late and I still have my packing to finish up. I do not want to leave and I do have half a mind to go hide into the secret chamber in your library. But it would not be the same without you for the time we spent there would be etched on my heart forever as one of the most beautiful moments of my life. I knew that you still loved me since the morning but it was there that I felt the depth and the strength of it._

_Oh how I wish the time flies by and two weeks could be over in two minutes, but alas this separation is necessary before we can finally meet, never to be parted. I shall miss you terribly and dwell upon every gaze that you ever directed towards me and every word that you ever uttered in my presence, for I have quite a good memory for your words as well as your silences._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Elizabeth Bennet_

The letter fluttered to the floor for the third time that day, as its writer sat paralyzed, with one hand clasped to her mouth and the other on her chest, desperately willing her heart to slow down.

…**.**

Darcy woke up on the Christmas morning with no trace of last night's fever. As he laid on his bed, distant noises drifted up to his room from the windows. He quickly got out of the bed and peered out on the grounds from behind the curtains and was shocked to find all the guests already arrived and taking their breakfast under the vast canopy. He could hardly believe that he had missed the church on such an important day.

He yawned and then called for his valet and instructed him to draw him a bath while he still gazed out of the window at the guests, looking for her. Darcy soon spotted Elizabeth sitting with Bella, Georgiana and two young men to whom the ladies were apparently not paying any attention. Darcy kept staring at Elizabeth, his mind drifting back to last night's ball.

She had looked so beautiful last night in that green gown that it had taken a Herculean effort for him to not do something improper there and then. But no, he shook his head slightly, she had not been in a frame of mind to listen to his ardent declarations of love last night with her nerves all to pieces, and he wanted his declaration to be made in an unhurried manner and under perfect circumstances.

His valet informed him that the bath was ready and he went and immersed himself in the warm water, thinking of how she had cried on his chest. _'Poor Elizabeth,' _his heart went out to her. But he knew that her misery was about to end for he had decided to propose to her that very day, if only there were not so many people around, he thought with irritation. How was a man supposed to find even a moment alone with his lady love with such a crowd always monitoring his movements?

Darcy stepped out of the bath and accepted the bathing gown that his valet held out for him. His clothes were already laid out for him on his bed so he just dismissed his valet and locked the door, walking again to the window, to look at Elizabeth. But when he reached the window, he found out that the tables were being cleared. He sighed and stepped away from the window, _'I shall see her soon enough,' _he thought as he got into his trousers and buttoned up his shirt. He looked at the bed and found out that his valet had not been able to read his mind today, the coat was all wrong for proposing to his Elizabeth.

Darcy went to his wardrobe, opened it and moved the coat hangers around to see which coat he should wear that day, but instead of finding the coat, he received the shock of his life when he spotted Elizabeth sitting in the corner of the wardrobe. He offered her his hand and pulled her out, but something went wrong, for they fell on the floor, Elizabeth's soft body right on top of him.

Darcy, who was already hanging by a tether to his self control, found himself thoroughly intoxicated on her scent. As he pressed her to his body with one hand, his other hand pushed her head down until his lips dropped feather light kisses on her eyelids and down her cheeks. It felt so right, her trembling lashes tickling his cheeks, her breath warming his lips. He had waited an eternity for this moment and he was just about to succumb to the desires of his mind and body and capture her quivering lips within his own when suddenly a knock on the door broke the connection. Darcy leapt to his feet releasing Elizabeth but his eyes could not release hers.

**Knock-Knock-Knock**

The door knocked again and Darcy winced, determining to kill, whoever was on the other side.

"What?" He barked as Elizabeth shifted her wait from one foot to the other.

"Darcy," it was the Col.'s voice on the other side, "we are looking for Miss Bennet, she is not in your room by any chance?"

"Of course not Richard," he told his cousin in exasperation as Elizabeth's eyes widened a little.

"Right," he returned, "sorry to bother you."

As footsteps withdrew, Darcy turned his eyes towards Elizabeth again. Her face was almost the same colour as her dress, which was a soft shade of coral. Some rebel tresses kissed her neck as she bit her lower lip, staring resolutely at her feet.

"Is everyone playing some game?" Darcy asked in a slightly annoyed voice, for a realization had dawned on him just then, he would have to postpone proposing to Elizabeth for yet another day as this house was too full to have even a moment's peace.

"Yes," she looked up then, her eyes appeared darker yet more brilliant than ever before, "Sardines."

"And how did you manage to become the first one to hide?" He asked in amusement as she blushed once again.

"I was not paying attention," she averted her eyes again and Darcy felt a pleasant sensation in his heart, _'could she be thinking of him?'_

"What were you thinking of?" He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving her face.

"What do you think I was thinking of?" She looked at him impertinently now, her wits returning once again.

"Dare I hope that you were thinking of me?" His heart was clearly beating in his eyes as he saw her answer in hers.

"You may dare Mr. Darcy," she tilted her head, trying to hide her real thoughts behind teasing, "but that would not make your surmise true."

"I have another sur…," he was unable to finish his sentence as someone knocked on the door again and then tried the handle rather forcefully.

"Is anyone in there?" A nasal voice asked and Darcy was about to answer when Elizabeth vigorously shook her head and placed a finger on her lips. As the sound of footsteps faded, Darcy looked inquiringly at Elizabeth.

"It was Mr. Edward Johnson," she said in irritation, "he has not left me alone since last night."

"Indeed," Darcy felt a surge of jealousy and annoyance, _'why would not anyone leave us alone?' _He thought with mounting irritation.

"Perhaps I should leave now," she said in a dull voice, "I apologize for intruding on you. I had no idea that the room was occupied."

Darcy suddenly panicked for if she left now, without any intimation of when they would be able to meet again, he would surely die of suspense and of course pining.

"Miss Bennet," he quickly stepped nearer, "I have a request to make of you," she nodded and looked at him a little puzzled, "I…I had planned on asking you something today," he stared deeply into her eyes and she stared back without breaking the gaze, "but the house is too full of people and there is no privacy to be had."

As if on cue, the door handle was juggled from the outside once again. Darcy groaned and Elizabeth pressed her hand to her mouth to stifle the giggle that threatened to erupt any moment.

"You see what I mean?" He asked her in exasperation.

"Clearly, Mr. Darcy," she smiled up at him, a smile that admitted to more than just understanding his meaning.

"What I want to ask you Miss Bennet," he drew nearer, "is the most important question of my life and I would much rather ask it in an environment where we are alone and there is no chance of getting interrupted." Elizabeth nodded and her eyes fell to her hands that were fidgeting now. "So would you meet me in the woods tomorrow morning?" At last he asked her the question that would pave the way to the question much bigger in consequence.

"Yes," she looked up briefly as she breathed deeply and then lowered her lashes once again.

"I shall wait," he tipped her chin up softly, making it impossible for her to look away anymore.

"And I shall come," she looked shyly at him then, and that look warmed his heart, "but I should be leaving now," she suggested and Darcy reluctantly removed his hand from her face.

"Let me see if anyone is in the corridor," he told her and she nodded as she smoothed her hands over her dress.

Darcy peered outside and found the corridor empty, he looked back at Elizabeth standing in his room, looking all flushed and flustered and he wanted to shut the door back and crush her to his chest. But instead he just signaled for her to step outside. As she walked by him, Darcy impulsively grabbed her hand and took it to his lips, he watched without removing his lips from her soft skin as she gasped and looked at him with large innocent eyes. Oh how she tempted him, Darcy dropped a soft lingering kiss on her hand before letting it go.

"I have been waiting for tomorrow," he told her in a voice that spoke of feelings long harboured inside his heart, "for an eternity."

She blinked at him, as her eyes grew brighter and opened her mouth to say something but then changed her mind. Instead she just gave him a look full of wonder and, if he was not wrong, of feeling too.

…**.**

As everyone assembled around the dinning table to partake in the afternoon tea, Darcy took immense advantage of his _'entirely too long legs' _and secured a seat by Elizabeth before the older Johnson son could even think of sitting near her. Darcy pulled out the chair for Elizabeth, which she sat on and thanked him without looking at him. Darcy smiled as he sat down beside her, she was clearly feeling shy of him and that was why her manner had become less forthright. Darcy found out that he quite liked this new side of Elizabeth and that he would make her even shier before the meal ended.

"Oh Col. do tell how you proposed to Miss Collier?" Miss Watson, a tall sandy haired girl asked Col. Fitzwilliam with open curiosity.

"Well," he smiled at Ilythia who was sitting next to him, "it was at Darcy's estate, Pemberley."

As the Col. proceeded with his tale, the excited flutter that rose among the female populace on the table gave Darcy his first chance to launch his plan of flustering Elizabeth and so he very innocently grabbed her hand that lay right next to his knife. Elizabeth's pupils dilated as she looked at him and Darcy quickly released her hand.

"I apologize Miss Bennet," he gave her an absolutely unapologetic look, "I thought it was my knife."

"It is quite all right Mr. Darcy," she looked at him through hooded lashes, "as long as it was an **honest **mistake."

"Of course," he said as his eyes twinkled.

As the voices on the table rose, so did Darcy's courage for he kept on rubbing the back of his hand with Elizabeth's soft one, only to feel the thrill of anticipation, for one day soon he was to hold that hand forever. Bella was holding court on their end of the table, and as she related a particular incident demanding everyone's attention, Darcy thought it a rather apt moment to do something rather daring. He caught Elizabeth's hand in his and was lifting it to his lips when she snatched it away forcefully. Darcy looked at her with mock innocence and saw her eyes flashing at him.

"Mr. Darcy," she minced her words in a low tone so as no one else could hear, "do not tell me now that you thought my hand was a tea cup."

"By God, Miss Bennet," he said in admiration, "you are a mind reader."

She pouted prettily, and placed her hands pointedly in her lap under the table, which, Darcy thought was an open invitation for him to capture one of them and so he did. Elizabeth tried to free her hand from his grip, which was rather foolish for he was more than twice in size and strength to her.

"Let me keep your hand," he whispered meaningfully as he held on tightly to her soft, small hand, "I assure you I shall take prodigious good care of it."

And suddenly she stilled her movements and her struggling to take her hand out of his. Darcy slowly moved both their hands to between their chairs, where they stayed connected until the tea ended.

…**..**

Darcy's eyes followed Elizabeth wherever she went that day, he could not help it, she was like gravity, no matter where his gaze went, she pulled it back to herself in mere moments. He watched now as she walked with his Aunt, her delicate frame emphasized by Izzie's ample form and then Elizabeth looked up and smiled at Izzie and Darcy could not resist the urge to join them anymore. He got up and approached them from behind, as they were talking about something.

"…sometimes you cannot help but feel a certain kind of bitterness towards an individual, that no amount of pleasant interactions can outdo," Elizabeth said thoughtfully and Darcy frowned, _'what could she be talking about?'_

"How do you mean?" Izzie asked.

"It is just that…well," Elizabeth hesitated for a moment but then went on, "a man tried to hurt my most beloved sister once, and even though he has made amends now, I still do not think that I would ever be able to see him in a purely amiable light again. There would always be one part of me that would hate him for what he almost did."

Darcy did not know if Izzie answered that question, he did not know if Elizabeth said anything else, he did not know if the wind still blew or the birds still chirped for all he was sensible of in that moment was the explosion that shattered his heart into a million pieces so that wherever he looked he saw only them.

"Are you all right William," Izzie's voice brought him back to his senses.

"I…I just came to inform you that I shall be retiring to my room now," he told her haltingly, "I feel my fever coming on again."

"Of course," she nodded, "you should rest."

Darcy turned towards Elizabeth then, the cruel woman who had not even blinked once before sentencing him to death. If nothing else she at least deserved applause for being a consummate actress. Darcy bowed low in front of her as she looked at him with such a genuine look of worry that if he had not heard her brutal words a few moments ago, he might still have been harbouring under the illusion that she felt something for him.

He turned around as she curtseyed and made his way blindly into the house, not stopping even to think till he reached his room, closed the door, turned the key into the lock and sat heavily on the bed. His ears rang with the sound of Elizabeth's voice, which pierced him like a sword that kept turning in the wound that was his heart, until he almost cried out in anguish.

_**'A man tried to hurt my most beloved sister once, and even though he has made amends now, I still do not think that I would ever be able to see him in a purely amiable light again. There would always be one part of me that would hate him for what he almost did.'**_

These were the words that had crushed his hopes, drowned his dreams and burned his bright schemes of a future with Elizabeth so that the ashes were now stinging his eyes. Her words from Hunsford echoed in his ears,

_**'Do you think that any consideration would tempt me to accept the man, who has been the means of ruining, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?'**_

Darcy could not believe that after so much time, and so many events that had occurred since then, she still harboured a grudge against him for his advice to Bingley, which led him to desert the Miss Bennet of then. How could she forget that he had made amends by sending Bingley back to her sister, and more importantly, how could she not forgive him for it when he so obviously repented his own actions?

For Elizabeth he had altered his ideas, his opinions, **himself**, but it appeared as though all his struggles were in vain. For he was the only one who had changed, **she **was still the same prejudiced and hard hearted woman who had refused his addresses many months ago. He thought upon their interactions at Torquay and an angered grief gripped his heart in its cold thorny hands.

_**'Did I not prove that I trust you just now?'**_ She had asked him on the beach.

_**'Of course I believe you,'**_ were her words to him as they stood mere inches away from each other in the woods.

_**'There is nowhere else I would rather be,'**_ was the sentence that had kept him awake on many nights as he heard it again and again, imagining how her eyes had looked when she had said it. And finally,

_**'It is not a choice Mr. Darcy.'**_

He abruptly stood up and peeled off his coat from his body, throwing it on the bed in anger. Was it all a lie, every word, every gesture, ever look that she had turned his way? Why would she play with his feelings in such a manner if she could not find it in her heart to forgive him? And yet she was not the sort to flirt with a man so blatantly.

He went back to all their meetings on the beach, in the woods, at Brookridge and Sleighton, and slowly an icy layer of frost began to cover his heart, as he stared down at the bed. Maybe she never thought of him as anything more than a friend, for why else would she share all her dilemmas and confusions about her past with him? Maybe she meant only what she said, and it was he who gave her words a deeper meaning for he needed some reassurance that she loved him as well. He thought on her behaviour since the morning and again what he had been purporting to shyness, could just as easily have been reserve or hesitation even. In a strange way, he was now glad that he had overheard her conversation with his aunt, for otherwise he would have gone to the woods tomorrow either to be rejected by her again, or simply stood up.

He started pacing the length of the room, why had she let him kiss her this morning if she hated him still? Could it be that she felt compelled to him as well as repelled by what he had once tried to do to her sister? He raked his hands in agitation through his hair, either way, his heart was doomed to be broken from the start.

Oh why did he stay at Torquay when he found out that she was here too, why did he set out to win her again, like a fool, why did he not just give up when he saw hatred in her eyes when he had met her at Longbourn after the accident? He fervently wished now that he had never come across Elizabeth Bennet, for then he would not have spent a year in such agony. If only he had not decided to accompany Bingley to Hertfordshire, none of this would have happened.

His pacing caught speed as he decided to leave Torquay as soon as possible. He would go back to Pemberley and then he would forget about her. There was nothing to remember anyway, except the hatred that still lingered in her heart. It was well nigh impossible to leave right away for that would cause a lot of questions, so he would leave in two days making some excuse or another. He would get away from this place of heartache and would look for solace at his beloved home.

Darcy stopped near the window and stared at the empty lawn in the fading light. Why were hearts such fragile things, he wondered as the frost kept enveloping his heart, why if the whole body is flesh, are the hearts made of glass? And why did the power to make or break them not lie with the owner but someone who does not even know its worth? Darcy's depression kept on escalating as the night sky darkened outside, but he remained oblivious to everything, immersed only in the misery that threatened to span the rest of his life.

Was there nothing in him that could compel her to love him? Was he not worth her forgiveness at least if not her love? He placed his forehead on the cool glass of the window and a chill spread through him. How would he ever live without her now that he had convinced himself that she would be his in less than a day?

As the last inch of his heart was about to get swathed in ice, something vaguely occurred to him, _'maybe Elizabeth was not talking about him.' _But he rejected that surmise as soon as it entered his mind, how many sisters did she have that got hurt by someone? It was Mrs. Jane Bingley that she was talking about, and he was obviously the man who had tried to ruin her chance at happiness.

And just like that, the warm heart of Fitzwilliam Darcy, that used to beat for Elizabeth Bennet, got completely covered in ice, cutting his blood circulation, freezing it in its agonized state.

**Next Chapter: A Kiss to Remember**

**A/N: ****Before any of you freak out, please keep in mind that only two more chapters are left and this story has a very happy ending.**


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39: A Kiss to Remember**

_'Oh no,' _Elizabeth thought as she paced restlessly around the room, _'no no no no no no no no no.' _And then she suddenly stopped in front of the mirror, _'Good God, it was** him.'**_

The realization that the man in her dreams was Mr. Darcy all along had put Elizabeth's emotions in such a turmoil, that she could not think even one coherent thought. She quickly walked towards her side table and poured herself a glass of water. As she drank it, slowly her thoughts began to organize themselves into some semblance of order and she walked back to where the letter had fallen from her hands and began reading it again, but a sudden dizziness made her stop for a moment.

It was there, all the proof that she needed of who the mystery man was, of who she had been engaged to, of who she had loved. The proof was in the letter as it was in her heart, that was congratulating her on her good fortune, on her amazing luck, on the coincidence of coincidences.

Her heart still had not slowed down, but the beat of surprise had changed to the beat of happiness, nay ecstasy. Mr. Darcy was the only man she had ever really loved, it was him then and it was him now. She had been right to question how she could have loved anyone like she loved him, because she did not, it was only him, only Mr. Darcy.

She twirled around for she did not know what to do with this sudden bout of happiness but had to stop again as a vertigo gripped her for a moment. But she ignored it, she wanted to sing, she wanted to dance, she wanted to jump up and down the mattress like she used to as a child, for never had she felt such uninhibited joy before. She opened the letter and read it yet again, slowly this time and it held an explanation for all her visions.

She recalled all her memories one by one in the light of the letter now as she sat upon the bed. Even though she still could not remember everything, she could piece everything up with the help of the letter. So it was Mr. Darcy who had asked her to call him by his name, she blushed profusely at that particular memory, the flashback to which she had had in the Collier's library. She sure had behaved in a most brazen manner with Mr. Darcy, but that was something to think about later, she reminded herself, still blushing and returned towards the letter once again.

And there she also found the mystery of the letter, that she had seen in her first flashback, resolved. Mr. Darcy must have written to her at Hunsford, after the proposal, maybe to explain about Wickham, for his account in the woods did sound familiar. She mentally ticked off another memory and moved on to other issues. She still could not place what _'overhearing him with Georgiana' _meant but seeing him at a ball must be why everything at the Christmas Ball at Torquay Assembly Hall seemed so familiar.

She thought back to her dream in which she had touched Mr. Darcy's portrait and then suddenly someone had come up behind her and had asked her to marry him. She hid her face with her hand, it had actually happened, he had proposed to her and she had accepted and he had kissed her then. Elizabeth's face burned at the memory of his kisses, because all those times that she had dreamed of him kissing her, it actually had been him and not just an illusion.

Elizabeth got up and walked to her jewelry case to place the letter in it and a sharp pain went through her head, but subsided just as quickly as it had come. She brought the letter to her nose and inhaled, it smelt like him, it smelt like her love for him. Elizabeth kissed it softly and placed it inside the case with care. She stepped back and sat on the stool in front of the vanity then as a sudden thought struck her.

Mr. Darcy must have known all this time that she had been dreaming of him and yet he did not enlighten her. Elizabeth frowned for a moment but then her face relaxed, how could he, he knew about the doctor's orders. She stared at her image in the mirror as the realization of what he must have endured in these past months hit her like a cold splash of water. She clenched her fists at the thought of how he must have suffered, for it could not have been easy for him to reconcile with the fact that she had forgotten him. Mr. Darcy loved her with a passion that was hard to define as it was to suppress, and he had been infinitely patient, extremely kind and undeniably considerate towards her.

She recalled what he had said to her after Jane's wedding,

**_"Someday you will remember, and maybe then you can decide whether your memories matter or not. I just do not think that you should dismiss them out of hand."_**

She remembered then how forlorn he had looked as he had crouched near a broken stem. Elizabeth got up in agitation and walked around in circles as the shock of what must have happened on the day of her accident hit her. They must have met in the clearing and he must have seen her get hit in the head by that branch.

"Good God," Elizabeth cried then, "this is horrible."

To see someone you love get struck down in front of your eyes can be an enormously traumatic experience, and he had even carried her in his arms all the way to Longbourn. Elizabeth stopped her frantic pacing in the middle of the room as she clasped her hand to her mouth, she did not even know an iota of what Mr. Darcy had suffered while the only trouble she had had was a bruise and some headaches. The poor poor man, her heart cried for his misery, and only to be told after a week that she did not remember ever loving him, to be scorched and chilled by turns, by her venomous looks and her cold behaviour.

_'How cruel I have been to that dear sweet man,' _her eyes stung with the pain he had endured on her hands. He did not deserve this, he did not deserve any of this, he deserved to be loved, to be respected, to be cherished, nay he deserved to be **worshiped. **And all through this, he had remained steadfast in his love and devotion to her. He was a marvel, that Mr. Darcy of hers, she smiled through tears, and she was undoubtedly the luckiest woman on this Earth.

Elizabeth suddenly felt cold as she had been walking around in just her slip. She felt a headache coming on as she quickly got into her night gown and then into the bed. But sleep was not to be had on that night. Her mind drifted towards her most recent memory in which she told the man, Mr. Darcy really, that she would remember everything if he kissed her and she wondered if he would tomorrow. Her face crimsoned over at such shameless thoughts but she could not help but think of how his lips had felt against her lids and down her cheek and her breath hitched.

_'Tomorrow,' _she thought as dawn approached, _'no, today is going to be the happiest day of my life, again.' _She had fallen in love with him twice, and though she did not clearly remember the first time, she somehow felt that this second coming of the same feelings was stronger and more profound. She gathered the quilt about her as she thought of him again and again, his warmth, his kindness, his love. She recalled everything that he had ever said to her and imagined all that he was going to say, her heart overflowed with so many feelings for him that she did not know how to contain them.

He loved her, she was sure, like no one could ever love anyone and she loved him more than life itself, now all that remained to be seen was how he would react when she told him that she knew his little secret.

**….**

Elizabeth could not sleep all night so she came down early with everyone else to bid farewell to Lt. Trent, who was leaving for his ship that day. After breakfast, she quickly made her excuses and went towards the trees almost at a run.

She had taken great pains to look good that day even though her headache had become worse due to lack of sleep, she also had a strange feeling as though some memory was stuck in her mind, but strangely enough she had had no flashback since she read the letter. Betsy had turned her hair into an elaborate hairstyle which showed her neck to a great advantage in case Mr. Darcy wanted to…err…linger there a while and she wore a pale green morning gown that suited her complexion rather well. Her heart started to pound as she approached the woods, she felt very shy and self conscious all of a sudden. She entered the woods and looked around for a tall gentleman that was the owner of her heart, but he had not arrived yet, so she quietly took perch on the fence as she waited for him.

She wondered if he would make any reference to the past while he proposed or not. She also wondered if she should just tell him that she had read the letter and now knew everything or just let him go ahead with his proposals anyway. Who knows if she would ever remember the previous proposal, so she should probably let him propose, if only to have a wonderful memory. Elizabeth giggled at her silly schemes and jumped off the fence.

The hour was getting late and there still was not any sign of Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth wondered if he had gotten caught up with his cousins before they left, but it was too late now for that to happen for the travelers must have been on their way for quite sometime now. She walked around the trees and worried over his fever, for he would neither be able to come out that day nor send her any message of intimation if his fever had gotten worse.

She almost resolved to go to Brookridge on a pretext of meeting Georgiana when she heard a horse's hooves approaching. She felt a sudden dizziness as he approached and her throat felt parched as she saw Mr. Darcy get off his horse and tie it up before walking up to her.

"I thought you would not come, Mr. Darcy," she tried to smile as she smoothed her hands over her gown but in her state of anxiety, it was not likely to happen.

"I almost did not," he said tightly as he stepped closer, "but then I remembered that it is not I who is in the habit of **forgetting."**

Elizabeth felt astonished at the remark that was uttered with a certain amount of bitterness. She looked at him with care and saw that his eyes were red rimmed and his features taut, _'maybe he does have a fever after all,'_ she surmised.

"How is your fever Mr. Darcy?" She bent towards him a little and asked in concern, "you do not look too well."

"I do not have a fever Miss Bennet," he looked at her with an odd gleam in his eyes, an expression that she had not seen in those beautiful blue eyes before, "but I am burning," he said vehemently, "my very soul is on fire."

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth stepped back as she saw his colour mount and his voice raise, "what is it? What has happened?" She could not understand the strange mood he was in. Had she misunderstood him yesterday, had he called her here to vent about something that was troubling him?

"Do you not know?" He asked her bitterly, "oh how could you, when you **do not** **remember," **he spat out the last words.

Elizabeth felt stricken. Something was wrong, something was horribly wrong. Why was he in such a rage?

"What do I not remember Mr. Darcy," she asked him helplessly, "why are you so angry?"

"Why am I so angry?" He laughed then, a cold, cruel sound, "she ruins my life and then she asks me why I am so angry."

Elizabeth felt her heart dip to the pit of her stomach as she failed to understand why Mr. Darcy would say something so unkind to her, what had she done in the space of one day that had made him so infuriated.

"I do not understand your meaning, Mr. Darcy," she gulped and looked at him in genuine concern, "what have I done?"

"What have you done?" He looked at her with scorching eyes, Elizabeth blanched at the contact, "you…you led me to believe that you loved me or at least that you felt something for me and then I found out that you would always hate me in your heart."

"What on Earth are you talking about?" She rubbed her temple with her fingers, as her headache grew bit by bit.

"Which part do you not understand?" He asked angrily as he took a step nearer, "you must know in your heart that what I am saying is true, so why do you not spare me the pretending."

"Mr. Darcy what has gotten into you?" She cried back, "you are not making any sense."

"Love never makes any sense Elizabeth," he said in the same hot accents, exchanging Miss Bennet for Elizabeth, "but you would not understand this, for you have neither heart not feelings."

"Why are you saying this?" She cried again, "I do not remember doing anything to hurt you." Elizabeth felt perplexed and hurt in the extreme, she had finally heard her name on his lips, but not in the loving tone that she had imagined he would use and he was at last talking to her about love, but not in the manner she had hoped he would. Her mind felt numb at his strange behaviour and she could not find any reason for him to be so cross at her either.

"You have summed it up rather brilliantly," he looked at her in mock appreciation as he gestured with his hand, "**YOU DO NOT REMEMBER."**

Was that it, had he finally broken under the strain of her lost memory? But he was not like that yesterday, and only a day before that was he trying to convince her to pay no mind to her memories, on the balcony at the Assembly Hall. She looked at him uncomprehendingly.

"Is that why you are in such a foul temper?" She asked in exasperation.

"Do I not have the right to be?" He looked scornfully at her and Elizabeth's heart fell again.

"Mr. Darcy please tell me what I have done wrong and I shall try and make amends," she begged, he seemed to be drifting away and she could not let that happen, "I assure you whatever misunderstanding you are labouring under, is just that, a misunderstanding."

"You assured me something a long time ago as well," his tone softened but then heated up again, "I made the mistake of believing you once Elizabeth, but I would not make it again."

"How can you hold my memory loss against me," she felt shocked at his continued resentment, "it is not as if I had any control over it?"

"No," he admitted sarcastically, "you do have a control over your heart though, but you still could not stop it from hating me."

"Hating you?" Her head now fairly pounded as things began to move slowly around her, "you cannot believe that."

"I did not," he mocked himself now, "what would you think of my folly when I tell you that once again I had convinced myself that you felt something for me."

**_And in a flash _****_Elizabeth_****_ was transported to a portrait gallery, where she stood in front of Mr. Darcy's portrait as he asked her a question,_**

**_'…do you feel something for me, anything?'_**

**_'Not something…not anything…Everything' she replied_**

Elizabeth came to her senses breathing deeply, she still could not see his face in her vision but she recognized his voice now and there was no doubt in her mind that it was him. How kind, how gentle he was in the flashback but the reality was nothing like the vision. This fire spitting Mr. Darcy was not the tender one from her dreams. What had happened to him?

"I do," she said but no sound came out of her throat and Mr. Darcy was staring at the horizon and could not read her lips.

"Why can you not love me even a little, Elizabeth," He turned towards her now, his eyes frozen, his voice dead, "when love for you all but consumes me?"

She stared at him as another flashback took her into its midst.

**_She was in the portrait gallery still but now she was in his arms,_**

**_'I love you, I adore you…you are the most beautiful, most wonderful woman that ever was to breathe' his voice was full of emotion_**

**_'I love you' she replied_**

As Elizabeth came back to reality, she found him staring into nothingness once again. Elizabeth wanted to reach out and tell him that she loved him too, but she felt unsteady on her feet and her mind seemed not to be properly working, for the trees had started to whirl with a little more speed around her now.

"Why did you lie about forgiving me when you had not," He asked her furiously as he turned towards her once again, "why lead me to believe that lie, Elizabeth? You said you believed me, that you trusted me. **Lies, all lies."**

**_She was on a balcony with a beautiful view in fading light now and he was with her._**

**_'Does that mean you have forgiven me for my behaviour that day?' He asked with hope in his voice and his eyes_**

**_'Of course I have' she replied with conviction_**

"I did not lie," she told him fervently, but he was so far away, her voice did not probably even reach him.

"If I had loved a rock Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said quietly, his face was pale now and his voice sad, "as passionately as I love you, it would have grown a heart, but I loved you and it turns out that you have a rock where there should be a heart."

"No," she whispered shaking her head, but that only made everything already revolving around her pick up more speed, "do not say that," she pleaded.

"Why do you not remember me?" He screamed as he caught his hair in his hands.

"I do," she tried to raise her voice but it just got stuck somewhere in her throat, "I do."

"How could you forget that you loved me," he was seething with anger now, "did my love mean nothing to you that out of all the things in your life, you chose to forget that you had pledged yourself to **me?"**

"I did not…," she tried to speak up but a sharp pain pierced through her head again.

"You promised me that you would not forget me," he almost sobbed then, "you promised."

**_It was morning and they were in a gazebo._**

**_'My love…promise me that you will never forget me' he insisted near her lips_**

**_'Never…I promise' she whispered determinedly_**

She wanted to go to him, to console him, to reassure him that even though she did not remember much, she loved him still. She wanted to clear the misunderstanding he was obviously labouring under, but how to do all that when speaking alone seemed like a burden?

"I am sorry, Mr. Darcy," she managed to croak out, but that seemed to have a rather negative effect on him.

"Sorry," He barked, "you are sorry? I do not need your apology, nor your sympathy. In fact there is nothing more that I require from you."

"No," she caught his sleeve, "y-you cannot leave like this."

"Why," he looked at her and yanked his arm away, "so you can fill me up with more of your lies?"

"I did not lie," she whispered, "I will remember."

"You did say once that if you ever forget me," he smiled a cruel heartless smile, "I should kiss you and you would remember."

**_They were at the same gazebo again._**

**_'if I ever forget you…all you have to do is kiss me like you just did…and I shall remember' _** **_her own voice laughed in her ears_**

She opened her eyes to find him much nearer than she had expected. Mr. Darcy's hand grabbed her chin softly as her heart pounded forcefully against her ribs.

"Let us try your words shall we?" He asked sardonically, as his hand on her chin moved behind her head and his other hand came to rest upon the small of her back.

"W-what are you doing?" She trembled at his nearness and the gravity of the situation as her hands planted themselves on his chest in a vague attempt to stop him.

"Trying to get your memory back," he replied firmly as he pulled her towards himself.

Elizabeth's cry of protest got stifled in her throat as warm lips softly brushed hers. Images from different occasions and places started flitting through her mind as her heartbeat accelerated alarmingly. Mr. Darcy's lips caressed hers softly at first, savouring the softness, even in her hazy state she felt shivers of pleasure run down from her lips as warmth spread throughout her body. He was holding her as though she was the most fragile thing in the world, it seemed as if all his anger had melted away the moment their lips met.

"Do you remember our first kiss?" He asked before capturing her lips in the embrace of his soft warm ones, tasting her again and again. Elizabeth could not decipher which image was that of their first kiss from the many that roved her brain, she simply felt lost in the pleasure of at last feeling his lips upon hers in reality. As his tongue gently stroked her lips, asking for access, Elizabeth could do naught but comply and then relish the sensation of having her tongue entangled with his.

"Do you remember something now?" He asked her as he nibbled her lower lip, "Oh Elizabeth, please tell me that you remember darling," he begged as he dropped soft kisses all over her face. Elizabeth opened her eyes to find his shining with hope once again.

"I…," she could not form a coherent sentence as she found herself by turns inside a portrait gallery, a room with blue interior, a gazebo and a clearing near Longbourn. In every instance, he was with her, he was with her even now, she gripped his shoulders tightly as her mind became a whirlpool of sensations and memories, she could not let him go, he had to stay with her forever.

"Oh love," he breathed in her scent as he kissed down her neck, "I had forgotten your sweetness, I had forgotten your taste. Please remember me Elizabeth," he gathered her to his heart, "tell me that you do not hate me for what I did to your sister."

Elizabeth did not understand what he meant by the last sentence but wanted to tell him everything that was in her heart, she wanted to lay her very soul bare for him to see, but her head was on fire, and why was everything moving so much? She looked up at him with empty eyes and saw the blue flame in his eyes turn to ice. He jerked her away forcefully then, so that she did not know how she maintained her balance.

"I rue the day I ever laid eyes on you Elizabeth Bennet," he lashed out at her with wrathful energy as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "I rue it."

"Mr. Darcy," she implored as she saw him slipping away.

"Do not call me Mr. Darcy," he returned angrily, "I told you to call me by my name. But how can you call me by my name Elizabeth, when you do not even know it?"

**_She was inside a room with a blue interior, pushed against a wall by him_**

**_'Let us drop the Mr. Darcy shall we' he suggested huskily 'call me by my name' but she had no idea which name to call him by_**

"I am leaving tomorrow," his voice called her back to the reality, she made the effort of looking at him for who knew when she would be able to again, "and I wish never to see you again." He turned away and started towards his horse in the distance.

Elizabeth's head reeled and she caught it between her hands to still it but the vertigo seemed unending. He was going, he was leaving her forever, he rued the day he ever saw her and never wanted to again. She had to stop him, she could not let him leave her, he was her life, he was her breath.

Perhaps if she thought really hard, she would remember his name and then he might stay for a few more moments, just a few more, she did not ask much.

**_It was the blue room again, and she was still pushed to the wall._**

**_'Say it' he urged tenderly_**

**_'Fitzwilliam' she said slowly, testily, it felt good saying it_**

"Fitzwilliam,' she whispered.

**_'Say it again…I want to kiss you as you say my name' he demanded against her lips_**

**_"Fitzwilliam," she whispered_**

"Fitzwilliam," she cried with every ounce of strength left in her, as everything began to darken around her and she swayed on her feet.

**_She repeated his name for the third time as he captured her mouth with his 'Fitzwilliam'_**

"Fitzwilliam,' her voice faded as did everything else around her. She felt strong arms catch her as she drifted off into oblivion.

**…**

Darcy knew that he was going too far in his anger, he knew that he should stop, a voice inside his head kept telling him to think before he said anything else, but he could not stop. It was as though someone had opened the mouth of his wound and all the pent up frustration and heartache was now pouring fourth and nothing could stop it.

He shouted accusations as Elizabeth looked back at him with large guileless eyes, astonished in the extreme. She tried to speak in the beginning but then it was as though no voice could come out of her mouth. And then she told him that she would remember and his mind went towards the words she had uttered playfully under the gazebo at Pemberley and he recklessly decided to kiss her.

But all his anger melted away as soon as his lips caught hers into them. The softness of her, the sweetness, it just drove all his wrath away. He had wanted to kiss her angrily then, he had wanted to bruise her lips with his cruel kiss, but who could even dream of hurting such soft petals, they were meant only to be treated with gentleness, to be touched with tenderness, to be devoured with devotion. He slowly found himself drowning in the pleasure of her kiss, murmuring endearments, begging to be remembered.

But then he opened his eyes and found her looking at him with no recognition in hers, her dark eyes seemed like deep pits that held no warmth for him, and that for some reason seemed clouded. He pushed her away and turned around to make his way to his horse in a blind fury when he heard his name.

"Fitzwilliam," she whispered and he came to an abrupt halt, unable to believe what he had just heard.

"Fitzwilliam," this time her voice was louder and more fervent.

Darcy turned around and saw her swaying lightly on her feet, her eyes half closed and a sudden dread gripped him. He ran back towards her and reached her just as she uttered his name for the last time.

"Fitzwilliam," she breathed before collapsing into his arms.

For the second time in his life, Darcy felt a strange fright take hold of his nerves. It had happened before when Elizabeth had had that terrible accident, but that was not his fault as opposed to this incident which was brought upon her by him. He quickly lifted her up in his arms and almost ran towards Brookridge.

As he climbed up the slope, there was just one thought in his mind, _'Good Lord, what have I done?' _His eyes kept flicking back to her pale face in worry that weakened his legs but likewise strengthened his resolve to get her to safety as quickly as possible.

"Elizabeth," he kept calling her but she stayed unmoved, lifeless.

As he entered the gates of Brookridge, he heard gasps from where the ladies' of the house were seated in the lawn.

"What has happened to Elizabeth, William," Georgiana was the first to reach him as he approached the house, her voice trembled as she stared at the unconscious body of Elizabeth.

"I do not know, Georgie," his voice was laden with a thousand emotions.

"Bella stop gaping," Izzie scolded the young girl, "run ahead and open the door for him."

But the foot man had already opened it. Izzie asked Darcy to take Elizabeth to the room opposite to his in the guest wing while she summoned the doctor.

Bella and Georgiana ran ahead and opened the door for him. He entered and walked to the bed. Bella swiftly pulled the sheets off and Darcy gently deposited Elizabeth on the bed and Georgiana covered her up with loving care.

"What has happened to her?" Georgiana asked him with eyes that were fast welling up with tears.

"Is she dead?" Bella asked bluntly and Darcy paled at the horror of her words.

"No," Georgiana cried and said with bitterness, "get out of this room Bella, now."

"Why?" Bella asked unmoved, "it is not as if any of you was not thinking it."

"Bella you are sorely trying my patience," Georgiana told her in a cold voice, "leave or I shall push you out of the room."

Bella huffed and walked out just as Izzie entered with a maid.

"The doctor is on his way," she told the Darcys.

Darcy nodded absently as he stared at Elizabeth's colourless face.

"I think it would be better if you waited in your own room, William," Izzie told him in a matter of fact manner, "it is not proper for you to be here at this moment.

Darcy was stung. It was not proper for **him **to stay in her room, she was his fiancée for God's sake, but then he suddenly recalled what he had said to her not even an hour ago, _'I rue the day I laid eyes on you' _and his heart fell into the deepest pit of despair.

"I shall call you when the doctor arrives," she told him as he wordlessly turned around to leave, "Until Miss Trent comes, Georgiana can stay with her along with Martha."

Each step that took him across the hallway and away from Elizabeth weighed a thousand kilograms. But Izzie was correct, he thought as he entered the room and closed the door behind him. He had no right to be near her, he had lost that right not even an hour ago, when he screamed and shouted at her like a man possessed.

He removed his coat and walked towards the couch, sitting heavily on it. He distinctly remembered Mrs. Bingley's words uttered on that far off morning at Longbourn.

**_'The doctor says that telling her about her past could agitate her, resulting in a fit or a seizure, which could be perilous.'_**

Darcy dropped his head on his hands. He knew that her mental condition was still fragile, he knew that she still had vertigos like the one she had had in Brookridge's library, he knew that she was not supposed to hear about their relationship, she was supposed to remember it and he still went ahead and put her life at risk. What kind of love was this?

Elizabeth was right, he was a selfish selfish being, who cared about no one but himself. Just because she had hurt his feelings, he made it a point to hurt hers in return. Oh how he wished that he had stayed firm on his decision of not going to the woods and leaving Brookridge on the morrow quietly. But after spending a night wallowing in self-pity and misery, he had decided to say whatever that was in his frozen heart to her.

He had wanted to punish her for hating him, for forgetting him. And he had ended up being punished by her, her lifeless, pale form lying there helplessly on the bed was the severest punishment anyone could ever inflict upon him. Her bright eyes were closed behind lids that he had kissed just yesterday in this very room, her red lips pale, her blooming cheeks devoid of all colour, and that was his torture.

Just then a knock was heard and Darcy bid the servant to enter. The doctor had arrived. Darcy quickly walked across the hallway and entered the room where the old doctor was taking Elizabeth's pulse. He then checked her eyes by lifting her lids and then abruptly got up and turned towards them.

"Dr. Matthews, this is my nephew Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy," Izzie said gravely, "and William this is Dr. Isaiah Matthews."

Both men bowed to each other. The doctor was very old and had an unblinking stare that made Darcy very self conscious.

"So you know the patient and her history Mr. Darcy?" The doctor took a few steps towards them and then halted as he came near enough. Darcy nodded. "Tell me everything," he asked.

"Miss Bennet had an accident in late August this year and suffered through a head injury," Darcy began the painful narrative, "as a result of that injury she lost some of her memories, that is from April this year to the time of her accident."

"Four months," the doctor said contemplatively. Darcy nodded again and then continued on.

"After the accident, she started having brief glimpses into her past, accompanied by dizziness and followed by headaches," Darcy told the doctor, his voice low, his accent miserable, "but as time wore on the flashbacks became more pronounced but the headaches and vertigos subsided considerably until today when she collapsed completely."

"What was she doing when she fainted?" The doctor asked, "was she having a flashback?"

"Quite possibly," Darcy told him, growing pale, "she did say something which indicated that she might have recalled some part of her past," he finished gravely. _'Fitzwilliam,' _she had said after he had cruelly accused her of forgetting his name.

"It must have been a very powerful memory to have made her unconscious like this," Dr. Matthews turned slightly towards his patient.

"When will she regain consciousness doctor," Izzie asked him in concern.

"It is difficult to say anything just now," the doctor told them bluntly, "but I see no reason why we should worry. She will come to, I dare say in a few hours. I shall wait here till then."

"Doctor," Darcy spoke up then, not being able to control himself any longer, "should we be worried?"

"Nothing can be said for sure until she comes back to her senses," he replied frankly and then walked back to the bed to take Elizabeth's pulse.

Izzie gestured for him to step outside and Darcy followed her out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Miss Trent shall be here any moment," she told him, "go to your room now, I shall send your lunch there."

"I am not hungry," Darcy told her morosely.

"Did you two have a fight?" She asked looking penetratingly at him.

"Not now Izzie," he stepped towards his door, "please, I beg you."

Izzie nodded and Darcy slipped quietly back into his room, a room that was both his sanctuary and his prison until Elizabeth came back to her senses. Time went by as the morning turned into evening and Darcy's torment turned into anguish. He paced around the room and he sat down, sometimes on the bed and sometimes on the couch, but no peace was to be had until Elizabeth regained consciousness. As the evening sky darkened into night, Darcy heard a knock on the door.

"Enter," he said in a tired voice.

"William," it was Izzie, "she is conscious now." Darcy sat down on the bed in relief, as his head fell to his hands.

"And how is she?" He asked after he had recovered some of his composure, "she is not…hurt in anyway."

"No," Izzie told him, "the doctor says that there is nothing to worry about, she is in complete command of herself, though of course weakened by such a long spell of coma."

"Did she say anything?" He asked again, a ray of hope glimmering in his sad blue eyes, "ask…err…about anyone."

"No, William," Izzie looked at him sadly, "the doctor has administered laudanum to her, after she had taken some light refreshments. Miss Bennet probably would not wake up again till dinner time.

"Can I not see her now?" He asked desperately as he got up from the bed.

"No, Miss Trent is with her," Izzie told him firmly, "you should probably eat something now."

He nodded and watched his Aunt exit the room absently. Elizabeth had gained consciousness, she was fine, he should rejoice and he did feel relieved that she was not in a perilous state anymore, but his heart still bled for the inevitable separation that was going to tear them apart now.

The manner of their interaction from the morning was not such to evoke any other emotion than a further affirmation of the dislike she still harboured in some part of her heart for him. And now that he had proven himself to be everything that she ever accused him of being, there was nothing left to be done except to make a hasty retreat. And yet he could not go away without seeing her once at least.

He got up and changed into his night suit. He pondered on how to devise a way to have a final meeting with her, but what would he say even if by some miracle of fate he did find her? Would she even want to listen to him, would she even care? Maybe she had retrieved some part of her memory, but she still did not love him in the reality. The Elizabeth that had loved him for little more than two weeks was gone, evaporated into the air like fumes, never to return after the morning's heart breaking episode.

Darcy slowly walked to the hearth where the servant had lit a small fire, and slipped down on a chair near it, his eyes staring at the armoire. Was it only yesterday that he had found her on the base of his wardrobe? He felt as though years had passed since he had dreamed of a future with her as he had hastily slipped his coat on and went downstairs to be near her on the Christmas morning, as if it was thousands of days ago that he had teased her on the dining table and millions of hours ago that he had overheard her conversation with Izzie.

That conversation had sealed his fate effectively and permanently. It had robbed him of the sole ray of light in his life, it had killed a heart so full of hope and joy. It had led him to behave in a way that had hurt his precious Elizabeth, something that he was sworn never to do after the Hunsford debacle.

Images from throughout their acquaintance at Torquay flashed in front of his eyes as he stared fixedly at the fire. Her eyes blazed at him in anger as they stood in the falling rain on their way to Sleighton Manor.

**_"If I am proven wrong Mr. Darcy," she said lifting her shoulders, "I shall concede and accept that I am wrong."_**

How angry she had become that day as the rain poured down, but then she had laughed and all had seemed well once again. And then they had met at the dinner at Brookridge, where he had held her hand under the table and later on partnered her in a game of cards. He almost smiled then at the memory of how she had led him to cheat for the first time.

**_"I cannot believe you convinced me to cheat," Darcy had murmured near her ear as he had handed her wrap to her._**

**_"I do not think that I said even a word," she had said indignantly._**

**_"I do believe you said Spade," he had replied dryly._**

Elizabeth had laughed then, a beautiful sound, like a string of pearls breaks and tinkers down on a plate of china. He sighed heavily, they had had some great moments together here at Torquay, especially on the beach. He remembered how he had wiped the sand off her chin, how he had kissed her hand outside her door at night and how he had found her in the water the next morning with her legs…beautiful moments indeed. And then there were the walks, so many of them. He thought of the manner in which she played with Sir Wuf, how adorable, how sweet she looked when she cooed and pampered the little devil, and how jealous he sometimes used to become of the puppy for the amount of attention it seemed to be getting from Elizabeth. But the day of the archery competition had been his, all his. A strange sense of warmth enveloped him as he dwelled on how they had argued, shot arrows and laughed together that day.

**_"Did you wait for me?" he had asked as his arms went around her._**

**_"That is not the answer to my question," she had replied._**

**_"Nor is this to mine," he had returned gripping her hands firmly as hers held the bow and the arrow._**

**_"I shall have my answer first," she had said adamantly._**

**_"Of course Lady Catherine," he said playfully in her ear and she burst out into giggles._**

He rested his head on the back of the chair, the crack in his heart widening some more. How was he supposed to live without her? What would his life be like if she was not there to brighten it with her smile, liven it up with her arguments, and making it worthwhile with her touch?

Darcy sat there staring at the flames lamenting his dashed hopes, repenting his cruel words regretting his thoughtless actions and thinking about the only woman that he had ever loved and the only woman who could never be his because if she had not been able to find it in her heart to forgive him for trying to separate her sister from Mr. Bingley then how would she ever condone his cruel behaviour towards herself this morning? He had decided, however, to talk to her at least once before leaving, even if he had to climb up her window for maybe he had lost the right to make amends nevertheless he still had the right to apologize.

But Darcy had not accounted for the thing called destiny and what he did not know was that destiny worked in mysterious ways and that his destiny had something up its sleeve that was going to change his life before the night was over.

**Last Chapter : Memories Found**

**A/N: There are two reasons why I thought this last misunderstanding necessary:**

**a) I don't think that anyone who has gone under as much stress as Darcy can be as steadfast as he has been in this story, there has to be a point where he breaks. When he overhears Elizabeth talking to Izzie, his stressed mind automatically assumes that she is talking about him, thus reaching his breaking point.**

**b) Elizabeth needed a shock to remember everything including Darcy's face as even the letter failed to evoke that part of her memory. Darcy's angered reaction to her 'supposed' hatred is the shock that is going to help her recall the lost time.**

**I hope to make it up to all of you in the last chapter :)**


	40. Chapter 40

**A/N: **This last chapter is all talk talk talk because Elizabeth and Darcy **have **a lot to talk about. I have tried to cover both the past, present and a little bit of future in it and I hope that all those readers who had high expectations for the end will be satisfied. I would request all of you to read it with the fact that there will be no epilogue in mind, because I don't want to ruin it with a lousy one since I have no bright ideas for a convincing epilogue. Happy reading.

**Chapter 40: Memories Found**

Rose wiped Elizabeth's brow with a handkerchief. The fever had broken but maybe her feverish dreams still continued. It had been three hours since the doctor left and two and a half since Elizabeth succumbed to a drug induced sleep after taking the herbal broth prepared by the Collier's cook.

Mrs. Collier had told Rose how Mr. Darcy had found Elizabeth in the woods and carried her to Brookridge though she had not seen him ever since she came here. Rose had been quite sure that he had a soft corner for her friend but even though his sister came almost after every twenty minutes to check on Elizabeth, he had not even asked after her through Miss Darcy.

Rose sighed and looked at Elizabeth's pale face. It was odd that she did not feel even the slightest bit jealous of her, as only a few weeks ago Rose herself imagined herself to be quite besotted with Mr. Darcy. But now that she had known Mr. Mark from a different angle, she could not believe how she ever came to be so taken up with his taller cousin for Mr. Darcy certainly was too serious for her. And though Elizabeth loved to laugh even more than herself, somehow she seemed to handle the reserve man much better than Rose could have.

Elizabeth mumbled something in her dream and Rose's attention turned towards her again. Her sleep was not a comfortable one, it was probably full of visions from the time forgotten. Maybe when Elizabeth finally woke up from this slumber, she would have found some resolution to the past. Rose got up and walked towards the window, her legs felt knotted after sitting in the same posture for over two hours. It would be good to stretch them a little.

…

_She was angry, very angry as she roamed in a clearing near Hunsford. Mr. Darcy had proposed to her in a most offensive way possible. She seethed and she fumed and she marveled at how she had been able to attract the attention of such a personage as him. At times she even felt sorry for him, for her language had been quite strong, but he deserved to be taken off from his high horse. And then suddenly he appeared, holding out a letter to her._

_"I have been walking in the grove for sometime in the hopes of meeting you", he said in his customary haughty accents, "Would you do me the honour of reading this?" And she instinctively took the letter from his hand as she watched him walk away._

_Her feelings of remorse were acute as she perused through his letter again and again at Hunsford and on her way to London. She repented the heated manner of her refusal. After learning the truth about his dispute with Wickham, she could not help but think herself to be the one who was wrong in that matter and after narrating everything in detail to Jane she could not help but think herself to be in the wrong in other matters as well._

_As she stood behind a bookshelf, Mr. Darcy's deep, sad voice penetrated her hearing._

_"Love dear sister is vastly overrated. It did not bring me any pleasure, so I wash my hands off it," he told his sister._

_She did not feel anything for him, anything at all, yet she could not help feeling somewhat miffed at his words, but that is not to say that she did not realize their justice. So she went to the Munroe ball with a heavy heart and decided not to dance when she saw Mr. Darcy enter the ball room. He was handsome and he danced well, but what drew her to him the most was the revelation that Jane shared with her when they went back to Longbourn. Mr. Darcy had told Jane that Mr. Bingley planned on coming back to Netherfield and so he did and got engaged to Jane as well._

_Soon after Jane's engagement to Mr. Bingley, she set out for a trip to Derbyshire with her aunt and uncle. Things became more vivid as she roamed the grounds of Pemberley, Mr. Darcy's house. Every word, every sentence sounded clearer and more pronounced as they stood in front of each other near a gazebo._

_"Miss Bennet?" It was Mr. Darcy's deep voice, filled with shock._

_"Mr. Darcy," she was scarcely less surprised. And then they were sitting under the gazebo with Georgiana Darcy._

_"I am so sorry to intrude on your privacy like that," she told them._

_"You are not intruding Miss Bennet," he reassured her._

_"I saw Miss Elizabeth from the window of my room," Miss Darcy teased her, "and suddenly she froze up and made for the nearest oak to hide behind."_

_"I wasn't hiding," she stammered, "I was looking for a rabbit."_

_"You thought William was a rabbit?"_

_And then they laughed and she found herself looking at him with new eyes. They met again at Lambton and he was so cordial to her Aunt and Uncle that she simply had to rethink her views and opinions of him. And when her Aunt and uncle had to go to a nearby village to visit Aunt Madeline's sister, the Darcy's invited her to stay with them at the beautiful Pemberley._

_All too soon she was in a carriage with them, her eyes clashing with Mr. Darcy's, their knees bumping into each other._

_"Your legs are entirely too long," she told him._

_"I have not heard any complaints before," he mocked back._

_Georgiana took her on a detailed tour of Pemberley and forgot her on a balcony where she went to sleep and woke up to find Mr. Darcy in front of her and to her horror, she also found herself telling him that he looked rather fetching. It was the day that she first acknowledged the beauty of his smile._

_"I never hated you Mr. Darcy," She told him._

_"It certainly seemed that way…at the parsonage," he said dully, dropping his head._

_"There were extenuating circumstances that day," she drew a little closer to him, "for both of us."_

_"Does that mean you have forgiven me for my behaviour that day?" he asked hopefully._

_"Of course I have," she assured him._

_And they held hands for the first time, and like the beauty of his smile she also discovered the beauty of his touch. And so it began, the process of falling in love with him. He was full of surprises, and everyday she discovered something new, something captivating and something that plunged her deeper into the beautiful ocean of emotions, undiscovered heretofore, till one day she found him on his knees as she stood in front of his portrait._

_"Will you marry me?" He asked, his heart in his eyes.._

_"I will. Yes," there could not have been any other answer._

_"You do not know how I have longed for you to accept me Elizabeth," he trailed her cheeks with his fingers as colour slowly crept up her face, "do you have any idea how much I love you?" His intense gaze bored into her. "How many lonely hours I have spent agonizing on how you could never be mine?"_

_"I love you," she told him and discovered the beauty of his eyes as they shone at her with an emotion that was so much deeper, so much more profound than mere love._

_But she had yet to discover his passion for her and it was something that made her knees go week and her insides melt. His lips on hers meant more than just a kiss, he promised his undying devotion to her through his touch as she did through hers._

_"Fitzwilliam," she called him again and again until she was lost to everything but the sensation that came with his nearness._

_She had to leave then and he promised to come for her in a few days as he asked her to promise him that she would not forget him and she readily did._

_"Some day when I am old and suffering from delusions," her eyes crinkled at the corners, making him smile, "I might forget you, I might even forget myself," her tone became serious as she looked into his eyes deeply, "but I could never forget the way you make me __**feel**__. My heart would always race at your touch," she closed her eyes briefly as his knuckles slipped down her cheek, "your words might be forgotten, but your voice would always be familiar to me. I could always detect your presence close to me Fitzwilliam, such is my intensity of awareness for you."_

_"You are too good for me," he pulled her close._

_She came away but left him with a letter to remember her by. Time passed too slowly for Elizabeth while she waited for him to come and ask for her hand but it passed at last and she met him in a clearing in the woods near Longbourn._

_"I thought you would never come," she flew into his arms._

_"How do you manage to look more beautiful every time I see you," he asked._

_He whispered sweet words of love in her ears and he trailed her body with his hands and he lined her face with his kisses. It was all so beautiful, but then something happened. Something that almost crushed her head and made her lose sense of everything but her pain_.

"Ah," Elizabeth woke up with a start as she took deep gasping breaths.

"Lizzy," Rose was with her in a moment, "what is it darling, did you have a bad dream?"

Elizabeth looked vacantly around her. She had woken up in the same room some time ago, it was a room at Brookridge, she was told. There was a doctor who had administered something to her that had made her sleep quickly and then she had dreamed. She shivered.

"Are you cold, Lizzy?" Rose asked.

Elizabeth stared at her friend. She had to see him, she had to see him **now. **He must be at Brookridge still, surely he could not have gone anywhere when she was unconscious. But she felt so weak, how would she reach him? She could not very well go around looking for him. Maybe Rose could help. But she rejected the idea, no, she would have to find him herself.

"Lizzy," Rose cried in worry, "why are you not saying any thing?"

"Can I have a glass of water please?" She asked weakly.

"Of course," Rose quickly went to the side table and filled up a glass for her.

"Thank you," she said. _'What I really need is a glass of milk,' _she thought,_ "or I would not be able to make it out of this room.'_

"Rose, what time is it?" She asked her.

"It is quarter past eleven," she looked at the clock and told Elizabeth.

"You must be so tired," Elizabeth looked guiltily at Rose.

"No Lizzy," she denied and then asked her, "how do you feel now?"

"Much better, I thank you," Elizabeth lied but what else could she do, she wanted to see him, to be with him, they had to clarify a million things between them, "but Rose you must go and rest now, indeed I shall be fine."

"But you had a fever," Rose argued.

"It is gone now," she reassured her, "the worst is over Rose. Could you please call me a maid? I think I should like a glass of milk."

Rose looked oddly at her then, Elizabeth had never willingly asked for a glass of milk before. She quietly pulled the bell and the maid Martha readily appeared, apparently she was instructed by Mrs. Collier to keep a vigil on the invalid.

"Rose, she would help me," Elizabeth told her friend after the maid had introduced herself, desperately wanting to be alone, "you should go and rest now."

"Are you sure Lizzy?" She asked worriedly.

"Of course," Elizabeth managed to smile, albeit weakly, "now off you go."

"Good night Lizzy," Rose kissed her forehead softly.

"Good night, Rose," Elizabeth said and watched in relief as Rose shut the door behind her.

"I am so sorry to disturb you at this hour," Elizabeth turned towards the stern faced Martha.

"It is quite alright ma'am," she replied in a surprisingly sweet voice.

"I need to have something rejuvenating," Elizabeth told her, a little relieved at her open manner, "do you think milk will do the trick?"

"No ma'am," she smiled now, "but the Cook's magic broth will. Some of it is left from what she made for you this evening."

"Alright," Elizabeth conceded to her expert opinion, "fetch some for me and quickly."

The maid curtseyed and departed, and like a magic trick, she came back within minutes. Elizabeth took the broth without making a face. After that the maid helped her wash her face and change into a clean night gown, for the one she was already wearing was drenched in sweat. Elizabeth thanked her and got into the bed as the maid left.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Elizabeth took deep calming breaths, resting her back on the soft plush pillows. _'I remember,' _she thought in awe, _'at last I remember and I cannot believe how I could have forgotten such precious memories.'_

She remembered, in the real sense of the word, and not just the artificial memory that could have been created by the perusal of the letter and Darcy's screamed words. His screamed words, she winced as she closed her eyes for a moment. His words had hurt her, they were unjust as they were unexpected, she had gone to the woods in the morning to be told how much she was loved, but instead she was told about the grievances in his heart, against her.

There was something in all of this that she did not understand. Why did he keep on saying that she hated him, or that she neither believed nor had she forgiven him? What could possibly have led him to form a misunderstanding of such proportions? Some occurrence, real or imagined, must have made him act in such an irrational manner, when he was generally such an astute person. And his behaviour seemed inconsistent with the reason for which they had agreed to meet by the woods in the first place.

She shook her head lightly, to ward off the images of the scene that took place in the woods this morning. She had so many other things to think about, with her memory now intact. She was in no doubt of Darcy's love for her, he was angry right now, but they could not stay away from each other. After all she had already warned him that '_there might be a lot of arguments and bickering lined up in our future, but as long as you promise to concede after a while, I do not have a problem with it' _in her letter.

She slowly pushed the covers away and walked to the vanity. Despite her own disappointment at Darcy's behaviour this morning, Elizabeth was fully aware of his suffering and in that moment, she had but one objective and that was to relieve him of it. She brushed her hair slowly as she thought of her time with him at Pemberley, that was probably all that he had to survive on for now four months. Their time in the clearing could hardly be revisited, for that must have been extremely painful for him to ponder and this morning, seeing her faint away must have brought on all the horrid memories from the day of the accident back.

Elizabeth placed the brush back on the vanity, she had to see him and soon. She looked at herself and her night gown seemed modest enough for visiting a gentleman for a midnight rendezvous, that he did not even know about. _'Oh hang my night gown,' _she thought in irritation at the direction her mind was taking, she only wanted to see him.

The maid had told Elizabeth that the room she was staying at was on the first floor, the guest wing, and luckily Elizabeth knew where exactly on that storey Darcy's room was. She put her feet in her slippers and made her way slowly to the door, for she did not want to have any vertigo at this crucial moment of her life.

As she stepped out in the corridor, she found it well lit with lamps. Martha had informed her that Rose's room was the one next to hers so that could obviously not be where Darcy was staying and she did not have the strength to check each and every door so she stared really hard at the doors in front of her and sure enough, she could see light coming out from under the one exactly opposite hers and coincidentally that also tallied with her estimation of which room might belong to him.

Of course there was an off chance that someone else could be staying there, but she had a very probable excuse of losing her memory and entering the wrong room, really, quite probable and equally plausible too. She took the few steps to that room, her heart beating wildly now and put her ear to the door. There was no sound coming from the other end except of maybe a fire burning slowly.

_'If he is asleep on such a night as this,' _she thought rather vengefully, _'then he shall definitely receive a piece of my mind.'_ Elizabeth slowly turned the handle and pushed the door and thanked God that it was not locked. She entered and the sight that met her made her eyes sting. Darcy was sitting on a chair near the fire, his head on his hands, and he looked so alone, so distraught that her heart went out to him.

"Izzie I have told you that I am not hungry, why do…" he looked up and his eyes widened as he quickly jumped off his seat.

"Elizabeth?" He questioned, astonishment etched on his face, his tired, lined face, she nodded and closed the door behind her, taking short steps until she stood in the middle of the room.

"W-what are you doing here?" he moved towards her, his stare unblinking.

"I had to see you," she told him, her heart thudding in her chest.

"How did you manage to make it here alone?" He advanced further towards her till they stood face to face, heart to heart.

"We have to talk," she replied, her voice cracking a little.

"You could have fainted again, you fool," his sad blue eyes shone with something, maybe it was love, maybe it was hope or maybe tears.

"I do not care," Elizabeth whispered, not being able to contain herself anymore.

"Do you love me?" He asked as if he could not believe his luck was giving him another chance. He asked but she knew that he must already know what her answer would be. She nodded.

"Say it," he begged as his hand went into her hair. She closed her eyes at his touch.

"I love you," she told him and heard him take in a sharp breath.

"Again," his grip tightened, as he pulled her towards him.

"I love you," she opened her eyes and looked right into his where the ice was melting.

"Again," he whispered in a trembling voice and she complied.

"I love you," she whispered as well and saw the blue spark take life in his eyes as he placed both his hands on her shoulders.

"Oh God Elizabeth," his grip tightened on her shoulders as his voice cracked, "how?"

"I remembered," she said simply and smiled through tears then, a beautiful smile that told him what life held for him in store, that cried out that destiny had at last decided to reward him.

His legs gave way under all the stress since the day previous and he fell to his knees, his arms going around her slender waist holding it tightly as he kissed her abdomen feverishly, repeatedly.

"Are you mine," he asked incoherently, "are you really mine? Do you believe me? Have you forgiven me?" One after another his insecurities stumbled out in the form of questions that were asked in a barely intelligible tone.

But Elizabeth could not answer just yet, for her body shook with sobs as she cried freely and uncontrollably, her fingers gripped his hair as her tears ran down her cheeks. Darcy looked up from below and Elizabeth's tears fell on his face mixing with his.

"Forgive me," he said hiding his face in her, "please forgive me for my cruelty this morning. I do not know how you are ever going to find it in your heart to forgive me but please Elizabeth, I beg you. You cannot know how terribly sorry I am for my horrible words."

"Th-there i-is noth-ing t-to for-give," all the weeping made her stutter.

Darcy quickly stood up, lifted her in his arms and took a few steps towards the bed, launching her on its edge and getting down on his knees in front of her.

"Please do not cry," he softly wiped her tears with his fingers, "it pains me to see you cry because of my harsh words."

"I am not crying because of this morning," she told him as she finally stopped weeping, "I am crying for the agony that you have gone through in the past four months." She saw him pale then as he slowly sat down on the ground and placed his head in her lap like he had that day long ago in the secret chamber at Pemberley's library.

"It was…difficult," he said evasively and she knew that he did not want her to know how he had suffered because of her. How could such a man ever willingly hurt her? Something must have happened to make him behave in a most uncharacteristic manner this morning.

"Difficult?" Elizabeth cried, "it must be excruciating, and yet you ask for **my **forgiveness," her tone became incredulous.

"It was," he said slowly, "in the beginning when I decided to stay away from you till you recovered sufficiently, but then you came to Torquay and seeing you often almost acted like a balm. It did not hurt so much after that."

Elizabeth stayed quite, as her fingers slowly moved in his hair. She knew that he would open up to her when he was ready, and she was ready to wait till then, after all they had a life time to share.

"I…Elizabeth, may I ask you something?" He tipped his head back and looked at her, her thumbs quickly went to his forehead to massage away the frown there. How wonderful it was to hear her name on his lips again, no one called her name like he did, as if it was made for him and only him.

"Of course," she smiled encouragingly as he grabbed her hands and brought them down to his chest.

"Do you love me because you remembered that you love me or do you love me despite of the past?" She found him looking guardedly at her and it was her turn to frown now.

"It is true that I loved you before losing my memories," she dipped her head so that their eyes were on level with each other, her hair touching the sides of his face, "but what I feel for you now is deeper, firmer, stronger and much more intense. Of course I loved you then, but I did not actually know what love was, what it meant, what it did, but I do now. I loved listening to you then, but I can hear you now even long after you have left, I loved talking to you then but I want to pour my heart out to you now, I sensed you in the air around me then but I feel you running through my veins now."

Darcy just stared at her and then he slowly turned around to face her, her hands still clasped in his, his breathing seemed laboured.

"Where did you learn to say such poignant words Elizabeth," he pulled her closer till she was sitting on the floor with him, his arms went around her petite form as their faces came close. Elizabeth trembled lightly in his embrace, but felt infinitely warmer, "do you promise to say such wonderful things to me everyday till my dying breath?"

She could merely nod as his lips softly touched her forehead. Elizabeth closed her eyes and her arms went behind his shoulders from under his arms. She did not know what heaven was, but it could not be sweeter than this, nothing could be better than being in his arms on the cold hard floor in that moment.

"Will you marry me?" He pulled back and looked into her eyes with his intense fixated gaze.

"I will. Yes," she repeated the same words that she had said in August her heart beating just as erratically now as it had then, his eyes shining with just as much love now as they had then.

"When?" his grip tightened around her.

"Soon," she promised with her lips, her eyes, her heart.

"And have you truly forgiven me?" he asked a little hesitantly again.

"I have," she said firmly, "but…why did you do it?" She asked him somewhat hesitantly and saw him wince.

"Shall we sit on the chairs now?" He asked gravely. Elizabeth nodded and he picked her off the ground once again, as if she was light as a feather and placed her on a chair near the fire with care. Elizabeth smiled, she could get used to not walking if he did not mind picking her up all the time.

He drew a chair near hers and took her hand in his.

"I…," he began hesitantly but stopped, and looked at her a little warily, "I overheard your conversation with Izzie," he said averting his eyes.

"Which conversation would that be?" She frowned at him as his grip on her hand went lax.

"The one in which you told her that _'a man tried to hurt my most beloved sister once, and even though he has made amends now, I still do not think that I would ever be able to see him in a purely amiable light again. There would always be one part of me that would hate him for what he almost did.'_"He repeated her words in a low, sad voice, "but it is alright," he tried to smile, but failed, "you can hate me a little if you promise to love me a lot too."

"What on Earth are you on about," she stared at him in astonishment, '_what is he talking about,' _she thought, "hate you? I do not understand."

"Did you not say this to my Aunt on the Christmas day, about me?" He looked oddly at her now, "were you not hinting at what I did to separate your sister from Bingley?"

"About you?" She wrenched her hand out of his in exasperation, "you really are trying to drive me to Bedlam." Darcy just stared at her, "I did not say this about you, I said it about Wickham and I was only alluding to what he did to Lydia."

"About Wickham?" He jumped, "how on earth do you know about Wickham and your sister?" His eyes widened alarmingly.

"Jane wrote to me about it," she rolled her eyes. For a man of the world, he really could act like a fool sometimes.

"So, so you were not talking about me," he stammered with joy, "and you do not hate me?"

"I am sitting in your room at twelve o'clock in the night and in my night gown," she said in irritation as he gaped at her like she had said something extremely brilliant, "of course I do not hate you, Fitzwilliam."

"I love my name on your lips," he told her softly as he spread his hand in front of her, "now can I have my hand back?"

"You have proven yourself worthy," she smiled as she placed her small white hand in his large one. He gripped it tightly as his eyes clouded over.

"No," he shook his head sadly, "I have not."

"Do not say that," she pressed his fingers with hers, "you are much more than just worthy."

"I am not," he got up abruptly, and started pacing around the room, "the things I said to you, this morning, the way I treated you. I yelled at you Elizabeth, surely you could not have forgotten."

"No, indeed," she got up and approached him, placing her hand on his arm to still his agitated movements, "but you thought that I hated you, and that brought all your pent up frustration of the past four months to the fore. I will not lie to you, it does hurt that you did not trust me but I can comprehend your state of mind. Do forget about it."

"I cannot," he hung his head morosely.

"You must," she insisted as she pulled him to turn towards her, "and if you are not worthy of my hand I do not know who is. You waited for me to remember all these months patiently, steadfastly, at the cost of great mental chagrin and you never once let it show."

"I did, this morning," he looked at her with pained clouded, eyes.

"Because you thought I hated you," she reasoned calmly. He needed her support in that moment and she would provide it with every fiber of her being, "anyone can lose control of their emotions if they think that the one they love hates them."

"But I put you at risk," he said in an anguished tone, "even though I knew, Mrs. Bingley had told me in detail that the doctor had cautioned against just such an action. I knew that you were susceptible to a seizure, like the one you almost had this morning and yet I went ahead with my ill-judged and misconstrued accusations. I put your life in peril Elizabeth, what if something had happened to you?"

Elizabeth shivered slightly at his words, so that was what he had been torturing himself with all day. She had to get his mind away from this bleak picture of what could have happened to what did not.

"So that is why you did not tell me anything," she tried to turn the subject, "because of what the doctor had said?"

"I…yes," he nodded absently, "Mrs. Bingley told me that it could be dangerous, that I must not attempt it, and yet I did not listen."

"You did for a long time," she rubbed her hand lightly on his arm to soothe him, "it was all a terrible misunderstanding, please forget about it."

"I called you a liar," he almost whispered.

"You also called me sweet," she smiled at him.

"I did?" He seemed incredulous.

Elizabeth blushed as she remembered the circumstances in which that particular adjective was attributed to her. He was kissing her then, most ardently, and he had not exactly called her sweet, but that she tasted sweet. She crimsoned over once again as she looked up to find him staring at her. Well, at least she had been successful in diverting him from his agonizing thoughts even if it was at the cost of her own embarrassment and her skin turning to a bright red shade.

"I wanted that kiss to be a punishment for you," he told her in a low voice as he cupped her cheek with his hand, a tremor traveled down from her cheek and spread through her body, "but as soon as my lips touched yours," his thumb softly caressed her lips, and Elizabeth's breath got caught up in her throat, "I could be nothing but gentle, your lips are the softest, most…," he stopped as his breath also came out in gasps now, "you are infinitely precious to me and I am terribly sorry for what I did."

"Well, at least it made me remember," Elizabeth tried to disperse the tension that was rapidly building up between them with a joke, she was after all in his room in her night clothes and it was exceedingly improper.

"Did it?" He looked intently at her as his hand dropped from her face, "did you really remember everything because of that kiss?"

"In part may be," she said thoughtfully, "I suppose the actual stimulus was your letter."

"My letter?" He frowned, "I thought you had burned it."

"Not the letter you wrote to me," she looked pointedly at him, "the letter I wrote to you."

"Where did you find it?" He looked surprised, "it was in the pocket of my coat."

"I accidentally picked it up when I was hiding in your armoire," she told him.

"So you had remembered everything when you came to the woods this morning," he looked extremely astonished now as he placed his hands on her arms.

"No indeed," she shook her head, "but I knew that you were the one that I dreamed about. And I started having flashbacks while you were…well while you were saying things to me. And when you…ahem…kissed me, everything just started to pool into my mind with such speed that I fainted away. I do believe that if not for the shock of this morning's events, I still might not have remembered everything." She looked towards him and he appeared sufficiently relaxed, with just a hint of a smile on his lips.

"So you were right when you said that if you ever forgot about me, all I had to do was kiss you and you shall remember," he pulled her closer, "are you sure that you remember everything now," his head dipped and Elizabeth's heart started beating wildly, "is there nothing more that I can help you to remember?" His breath touched her lips and she shivered with anticipation and felt extremely bashful.

"Are you cold?" He quickly became concerned.

"N-no," she replied still breathing heavily.

"Come," he led her to a couch near the window and held his night gown for her to wear.

"I shall drown in it," she chuckled but slipped into it nonetheless, it smelled like him, she wrapped it tightly around her and both of them settled down on the couch, snuggled close.

"Did you read my letter often?" She asked curiously, "I used to read yours everyday until I burned it."

"Your letter was the only thing, besides some precious memories, that helped me keep my resolve all these months," he told her earnestly, "no matter how black a mood I was in, it always made me smile."

"Our letters to each other have been quite useful then," she smiled up at him.

"Your very first flashback was also about a letter, right?" He asked as his arm rested on her shoulders.

"Yes," she snuggled closer to him, "about the one you gave me at Kent and the flashback was brought on by you."

"By me?" He looked at her, puzzled.

"Yes," she nodded, "do you not see, every time I remembered something, or had a vision, you were almost always around. Your mere presence helped me to remember. If I had not met you here at Torquay, I am sure I still would have been in complete darkness about our past."

"Is that why you blatantly fought with me in the woods when we first met here?" He asked with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"I was a fool," she became sad, but then her eyes twinkled as well, "and also suffering from amnesia."

"That is no excuse for how you behaved towards me," He retrieved his arm from behind her back and folded both his arms on his chest.

"I know that you have suffered at my hands all these months Fitzwilliam," she turned towards him with a guilty expression on her face, "but I honestly did not remember."

"Of course darling," he scooped her up in his arms, "it was not your fault," he dropped a soft kiss on her cheek, "you did not choose to forget."

"But you went through such a harsh time and because of me," she hid her face in his neck, "I was supposed to share your problems, not become one."

"It tickles," there was a sudden laughter in his voice.

"What?" She looked up to find him smiling rather broadly and looking slightly embarrassed.

"When you say something against my neck," he explained as he seated her down once again, "it tickles."

"Are you saying that you are ticklish?" her eyes caught a wicked gleam suddenly, he nodded and Elizabeth smiled rather evilly. Darcy blinked. "You have unwittingly given me a weapon to use against you Darcy," she wagged her eyebrows, "for I simply adore people who are ticklish, because I am merciless when it comes to tickling."

"You do not scare me Elizabeth Bennet," his gaze darkened and fell to her lips, "I have my weapons also."

"Let us not use them both at the same time then," she chuckled and he grinned back at her. Elizabeth thought him the most handsome man alive in that moment as a beautiful smile lit his face, making his eyes even bluer than they actually were.

It was perfect. He was smiling with her, she was sitting so close to him, they were opening up to each other. She looked up at him and he took her hand in his.

"You have beautiful hands," he took her hand to his lips and kissed it softly and Elizabeth felt shy again as she pulled her hand out of his.

"You never told me this before," she looked impishly at him.

"Why do you think I kept touching your hand at Bingley's wedding?" He raised an eyebrow and caught her hand again, "it was so difficult for me to be so near you and not be able to touch you," he told her as his thumb rubbed the back of her hand softly.

"First the carriage ride and then the hands?" She looked at him in mock incredulity, "I cannot believe that you are such a flirt." Darcy had the grace to blush then.

"What can I say," he averted his eyes, "I was rather desperate to be near you," and then he looked at her adoringly, "and you do look quite appealing when you blush."

"You mean I do not look appealing when I do not blush," she folded her arms on her chest.

"Elizabeth, I swear, if you took your hand away one more time, this conversation would come to an abrupt halt," he told her sternly as he captured her hand once again, in a very tight grip this time.

"Overbearing through and through," she shook her head at him as her eyes laughed.

"Stubborn to the core," he returned as he jerked her closer, his eyes brighter than a million candles, "and if I remember correctly, it was you who held on to my hand at Bingley's wedding."

"And why not," she raised her eyebrow at him, "it was mine."

"But you did not know it was," he argued.

"I did not know," she agreed and then her eyes shone, "but maybe I felt it."

"Did you?" he turned completely towards her then.

"I do not know," she said as her eyebrows knit together, "but…do you remember how we met at the clearing after the wedding?" He nodded and she went on, "that was the first time I dreamt of you."

"You mean you used to see me in your dreams?" He sounded astonished, "then how come you did not know that I was the man in your past?"

"I saw you only a few times," she averted her eyes as the thought of the manner in which he appeared in her dreams occurred to her, "and I always attributed your appearance to the fact that I thought too much about you," she told him in a low voice as a light pink hue spread on her cheeks.

"Did you really?" He seemed even more incredulous, "and here I was torturing myself with the conviction of your indifference," Elizabeth looked up to find a content expression on his face, "tell me about the dreams you had about me," he asked with excitement and the colour in Elizabeth's cheeks started to darken considerably.

"They were just dreams," she told him evasively, "there is nothing to tell." But Darcy was a fool only in love, otherwise he was quite a clever fellow, and so he quickly deduced the reason for her blush.

"You dreamt of me kissing you, did you not?" He asked slyly as he drew her closer, "I can make that a reality," his voice became husky as his face came nearer and nearer.

"Whose dreams would that be," Elizabeth looked at him with hooded eyes, her heart picking up speed again, "mine or **yours?"**

"Ours," he said as he rubbed her cheek with his, making her almost swoon with the contact, "May I kiss you darling," he whispered, "I am dying to?" Elizabeth suddenly felt very shy and self-conscious. Darcy did not wait for an answer as his lips finally touched hers, stoking the fire already blazing inside her but he quickly pulled away, his face looking pained, as Elizabeth stared at him with a slightly glazed look on her face. "You fainted the last time I kissed you," he said morosely as he relinquished his hold on her and sat back on the couch, "how could I have been such a cad?"

"Well," she sat back as her breathing became normal, "look at the bright side," she teased, "how many men can claim that their kiss made a lady swoon?" Darcy threw back his head and laughed, a deep throaty sound that made Elizabeth nestle closer to him.

"Who would have thought that everything would resolve so beautifully within a few weeks, when we first met in the woods," she said thoughtfully as her head rested on his shoulder and his fingers moved in her hair.

"What fools we were," he replied, "and what a terrible fight we had in the woods."

"I immediately repented it when I was alone and able to look back on my behaviour," she told him as she intertwined their fingers, "I had determined then to be nice to you."

"So when you taught me how to cheat at cards," his tone became full of mischief, "that was your way of being nice to me?"

"Indeed," she turned her head to look up at him, "and you should be infinitely thankful to me for your first ever victory at cards."

"I am thankful to you for many things," he told her as he bent his head and kissed her forehead lightly.

"I was thankful to you for something that night at the dinner," she told him with a smile, "though you might be unaware of rendering me any favour."

"I held your hand on purpose Elizabeth," he told her as he looked deeply into her eyes, "I knew that you needed a considerate touch after Bella's impertinent remarks."

"Oh Fitzwilliam," she looked lovingly at his handsome face as her fingers tightened around his, "what would I ever do without you?"

"Nothing," his hand moved down to her waist as he pulled her closer, "for you would never be without me."

"Yes," she turned her eyes back to their joined hands and said in a lighter tone, "but you really must stop touching me under false pretenses."

"When else have I done that?" He looked down indignantly at her.

"You did wipe my face on the beach with your fingers," she retorted, "when you could have just pointed me to where the sand was."

"I tried," he said evenly, "but maybe you wanted me to touch you, why else would you miss the mark every time?"

"Fitzwilliam," she huffed and turned towards him completely, "I could not see my face."

"Not even in my eyes?" He asked softly.

"I cannot even encounter your eyes for more than a few moments," she confessed somewhat shyly, "you look so intensely at me."

"That is because I feel so intensely for you," he told her with feeling as he captured both her hands and took them to his lips, turning them around before he kissed her soft, pink palms, "I burn for you Elizabeth."

And sure enough, the light touch of his lips on her hands was burning. Elizabeth felt it resonate through her body, making her tighten her grip on his hands in turn.

"Tell me," his fingers brushed her cheek, "why were you in such an odd mood when we met on the beach, the morning of our return? In the beginning you were not even looking at me, was it because of the way I stare?"

"No," she held his hand against her cheek, "I…I suppose I started to feel something for you then, and it made me reserved towards you. I just…I do not know," she told him a little puzzled herself, "I kept thinking about you and I sometimes I felt jealous…" Darcy cut her in the middle of the sentence.

"Felt jealous," he asked in astonishment, "of what or whom?"

"I…," she averted her eyes, but then decided not to hide anything from him, "I thought you had fallen in love with Jane."

"What?" It was his turn to wrench his hand away this time, "surely you jest."

"I overheard you say something to her on her wedding," she blushed at her own stupidity, "and I know now that the two of you must be talking about me, but at that time I…" She left the sentence unfinished, willing him to understand.

"Elizabeth there can be no doubt about who my heart belongs to," he said earnestly as he drew nearer, "in all of my life, there is not another woman that has ever come even close to your status in my heart. And who can love anyone else once they have discovered how perfect **you** are?"

"I am far from perfect," she said demurely at his praise, "and besides you told Bella, during that game on the beach, that you have loved two women?" She looked at him in confusion then.

"I meant you," he said firmly, "the first one was the Elizabeth from Hertfordshire and Kent, and the second one was the one I met at Pemberley."

"So that is why you said that _'the second one is kinder to me_'?" She asked, understanding dawning on her. He nodded.

"And the third one?" She asked pertly, her eyes shining once again.

"The best of the lot," he told her with a beautiful smile on his face.

"And you are F!" She suddenly moved forward with excitement.

"F?"

"Yes," she nodded enthusiastically, "do you not remember, that day on the beach, when I had written the initials of both our names on the sand, without knowing that your actual name was Fitzwilliam?"

"I remember," he said his eyes darkening to a stormy blue now, "but there is something else that is my most precious memory from that day," he told her meaningfully.

"Which do you mean?" She asked mystified.

"Your legs," he said somewhat warily as his eyes dropped to her lap.

"My legs?" She remained puzzled as she took in his rising colour.

"I saw you Elizabeth," he told her a little guiltily now, "when I was coming back from the early morning swim, I saw you in the water."

Elizabeth stiffened, embarrassment making her flush to the core, _'oh no,' _she thought as colour suffused her cheeks, _'not my legs.'_

"I did not mean to," he quickly tried to clarify, "but I could not look away once I saw you standing in the ocean like a mermaid," his voice became gruff as his hands moved to Elizabeth's legs. She felt her thighs becoming warm as the heat from his hands seeped through the thin fabric of her nightgown. "And then you started walking back," his hands stroked her legs now as her breath hitched, "you cannot imagine the sensations the sight of your beautiful, creamy legs evoked in me," she felt his breathing also become erratic as his hands moved behind her and pulled her forward so that she slid on the couch towards him till her legs were laid in his lap.

"I wanted to touch them and experience for myself if they were as soft as they looked," he told her without removing his eyes off her face as his hand moved to her calf and his fingers softly held it.

"Fitzwilliam," she breathed.

"Elizabeth," he whispered as his eyes caressed her face, "my beautiful love."

Elizabeth felt that she might faint yet again, with her heart beating impossibly fast, she quickly removed her legs out of his lap and stood up, but lost her balance and was about to stumble when he caught her quickly as he stood up as well.

"What is it?" He asked worriedly, "have I embarrassed you?"

"No," she lied, "but maybe I should go back to my room now." She saw him pale then as he pulled her to his chest and held her in a firm embrace.

"You cannot go Elizabeth," he dropped soft kisses on her head, "I would not touch you now, I promise, but you have to stay with me."

"But…," she was about to protest when he picked her up and took her to the bed.

"You are tired, I know, sleep here with me." He deposited her softly on the bed.

Elizabeth's eyes widened to an alarming diameter, _'surely that would be the height of impropriety,' _she thought. She looked up and found him looking at her in mute appeal, the pain that their easy companionship of the last hour had erased, slowly resurfacing. She felt the power to refuse him slip through her fingers, she could see that he was very vulnerable. Perhaps he still felt insecure where her memory was concerned, perhaps he thought that if she went away now, maybe she would never come back and she did not want him to feel helpless where she was concerned, she wanted him to feel in command.

"Alright," she told him and the light immediately took life in his eyes again.

"I shall be a gentleman, I promise," he told her earnestly, "I would not have been able to sleep without you tonight."

Elizabeth smiled and watched him walk towards the other end of the bed. He picked up a large pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed, upon the quilt and then quickly got under the covers.

"I trust you Fitzwilliam," she chuckled at his antics, "you do not have to place a pillow between us."

"You shall feel more comfortable with it," he said firmly as he blew off the candle, "trust me."

Elizabeth shrugged out of Darcy's night gown and slipped under the covers after placing it near her pillow.

"Good night," she said softly before turning away from him.

"Good night," he said in a contented voice.

Elizabeth wrapped the covers around her as she gazed at the fire burning in the grate, the only light in the otherwise dark room. She knew that what they were doing, though perfectly innocent, was the height of impropriety, but somehow she did not care. He was with her, and nothing could go wrong between them now. Indeed so many things had already kept them apart, but it was time for all the chips to fall into the right places.

She slowly turned towards him, his breathing indicated that he was drifting off to sleep fast. How peaceful he looked, she wanted to push his hair off his forehead and run her fingers down his face but for some reason she felt shy of physical intimacy with him now when in the past that had not been the case. She thought of his expression as he had asked her if she loved him and her heart felt heavy, he really had endured too much. She was the one who had had the accident but he was the one who had endured the trauma, and such severe trauma at that. She remembered how she had felt that day when he got grazed by that arrow, for a moment it was as though she would die of shock. She wondered if he had felt the same when he had carried her to Longbourn.

Elizabeth shivered then, and shook her head to ward off such morbid thoughts. She thought of how gentle, how loving he was and she almost blushed again at the thought of him having watched her legs. But strangely enough she did not feel embarrassed of having told him that she had felt jealous of some other female's presence in his life and suddenly something struck her.

"It was me," she said out loud.

…**..**

Not having been able to sleep on the night he had overheard Elizabeth, Darcy now had been awake for almost two days and even though the woman laid next to him tempted him to no end, he was too tired and too happy to have any amorous thoughts for longer than a few minutes. That is why he started to drift into sleep immediately after he bade a good night to Elizabeth. But just when he was about to step into the realm of oblivion, she said something.

"It was me."

"Hmm?" He asked from his side of the bed, raising his head slightly off the pillow and saw her quickly sitting up and turning towards him.

"The woman in the sketch," she went on and Darcy slowly started coming back to his senses, the proof of which was that his first thought was that how fetching she looked in the dim light of the fire burning in the grate, "the one that Georgiana showed us on the day of the archery competition."

"Yes," he said smiling a little at her enthusiasm and then teased her, "it was you. Do not tell me that you have been jealous of yourself too?"

"I have not," she denied but the blush that spread on her cheeks was visible even in the dim light. To see her being jealous of women on his behalf made Darcy feel strangely glad. "Alright," Elizabeth mistook his stare for a mocking one and admitted, "I was jealous. You might not believe it, but I simply seethed with jealousy when Jane wrote to me that you had left Sir Wuf in her care," she dimpled at him.

"Whatever for?" Darcy asked slightly surprised.

"Sir Wuf was supposed to be **our **puppy," she wrinkled her nose, "was it not?" Darcy smiled fondly at her and nodded.

"And it is," he assured her and then could not help teasing her a little, "why else do you think I let you call it by that ridiculous name?"

"It most certainly is not a ridiculous name," Elizabeth looked at him with eyes that flashed in the dark, "it is a perfectly reasonable name for a dog."

"And it most certainly is unmatched in its ridiculousness," Darcy riled her even further, his eyes darkened to almost midnight blue in the barely illuminated room.

"Why did you let me name it then," Elizabeth huffed and looked infinitely endearing to Darcy, "if you thought it such a silly name?"

"Because it might be silly, but it is likewise adorable, like the one who named it," he observed the pleased look on her face with interest, "and also because, in case you did not notice, I was trying to woo you."

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth's eyes expanded comically, "you manipulative man. I do believe that you were trying to make me envious on purpose on that day of the archery competition," she raised an eye brow at him.

"But you were not in love with me then?" He frowned as he raised himself a little on his elbow, "why would you be jealous of anyone at that time?"

Elizabeth laid back down on her pillow and turned towards him, her head on her hand.

"That was the day I realized that I was in love with you," she told him solemnly.

"You did," Darcy's ears perked up, "why on that day?" He moved towards the pillow between them, placing his hand on it.

"When I saw you get hurt," she said as she moved closer as well, "the blood," she shuddered, "I thought you were bleeding from the heart," she gently placed her hand on his heart that was beating rather forcefully just then, "surely you can understand how seeing a loved one get injured in front of your eyes feels like," she looked up at him with large pained eyes.

Darcy quickly covered her hand with his, he wanted to throw away the pillow then and scoop her up in his arms, he wanted to comfort her, to love her, Oh Lord, how he wanted to love her. He gulped, such thoughts would surely make him break his promise to be a gentleman.

"I do," he said gently as he took her hand and placed it on the pillow between them, his own stayed connected to hers, "is that why you ran away?"

"I…yes," she told him a little shyly, "I went to the woods and I finally confessed to myself that I was in love with you, and I was so happy for sometime, but then I had a dream."

"About the past?" He asked and she nodded.

"I dreamt of your proposal, the one in the portrait gallery, but I could not see your face and it depressed me so much that I started avoiding you," she told him somewhat sadly, but then livened up, "if only I had known then that it was you in my dreams, oh how I would have rejoiced."

"So that day of the archery competition had opposite effects on each of us," Darcy said ponderously, "you went into a shell and started avoiding me and I decided to finally propose to you, regardless of your memories."

"Did you?" Elizabeth raised herself up on her elbow as well and said in a teasing voice, "I wonder what made you so bold?"

"I know," Darcy felt a slight embarrassment, "I do behave in a rather audacious manner whenever I am with you which is most uncharacteristic for me, for normally I am the soul of propriety."

"Are you implying that I have somehow woken the devil inside you?" Her voice sounded a little miffed.

"Are you implying that I have a devil inside me that could be woken up to begin with?" He teased her.

"Are we going to have wordplay again?" She took her hand out of his and caught his fingers in it.

"Again?" He frowned as she moved her thumb on his nails, "when did we have it before?"

"Many times," she held his hand up to the light from the fire, "you clip your nails too close."

"For example?" He asked and then shrugged at her observation, "I have been doing so for many years now."

"The day you taught us how to Waltz," she replied as she placed their hands against each other to measure the difference in their lengths, "are my hands really small or yours really large?"

"Yes," he admitted as he engulfed her hand in his, "I really meant your hand in marriage when I asked you for your hand in a dance," he dropped his head to the pillow then, "I had started to lose patience with your memory loss, I just wanted to make you mine. That is why I asked you not to over-think your memories and live in the present when we were at the balcony of the Torquay Assembly Hall," he pulled her closer so that both of them were pressed against the pillow now, "and your hands really are small and mine are rather large."

"Oh hang the hands," she pouted and then moved forward enthusiastically, "tell me more about your decision to make me yours."

"I would have proposed to you the next day, if I had not been called away to London," he told her smiling at her adorable face that glowed in the dim light.

"And I had made up my mind to come back engaged from the woods the day you came to say good bye," she admitted and Darcy's heart raced at such a sweet admission.

"I cannot tell you what degree of willpower it took for me to leave you standing there in the lawns of Sleighton Manor," he pulled her closer still, squeezing the pillow between them, "when you had told me that you would wait for me."

"And I cannot tell you how sad I was to see you go," she told him earnestly, "I found it difficult to even say a few decent words to anyone, after you left, let alone smile or laugh."

"I would not have gone if it was not so urgent," he told her as his knuckles lightly trailed her cheek, absorbing her softness as her eyes closed for a moment and then opened up reflecting the fire in the grate.

"Why are you so caring and considerate towards everyone?" Her voice was full of love as she brushed his hair off his forehead and it was Darcy's turn to close his eyes and relish her touch, "do you know that I once wished that I had said yes to you at Hunsford?"

"You did?" His eyes widened, "when was that?"

"A couple of days ago," her hand stayed on the pillow, close to his lips, tempting them to move towards it but he kept his feelings in check, "after I had a dream. I just wanted to get rid of those dreams and lamented the fact that if I had judged your true worth at Hunsford, then none of this would have happened."

"Would you change any of this," he looked deeply into her eyes, "if you had the chance?"

"No," she replied thoughtfully as her fingers drummed on the pillow absently, "for even though it has been difficult, it likewise has been illuminating. Perhaps I would not have been able to love you like I do now if I had said yes to your first proposal, or even if I had not lost my memories." Darcy stared at her as her face lit up with pure love for him, **for him.** "The more I saw you here at Torquay, the more I loved you. My every waking hour was filled with your thoughts and your words, the ones you said and the ones you did not for I love your silence just as much Fitzwilliam."

He did throw away the pillow then, as he crushed her to his chest, his heart beating for her, his breath irregular.

"Stay in my arms Elizabeth," he implored, "I cannot bear to be away from you for even a moment. You do not know how I have yearned for you, how many times I have relived every moment spent with you in my mind, how I have agonized over every word every look that you ever bestowed upon me, trying to determine if you felt something for me. It has been a sweet torment, seeing you everyday yet not being able to touch you, listening to you talk yet not being able to hear the words that I longed for, telling you everything except what was in my heart." He breathed as though he had ran for miles as she gripped his shoulders tightly, "I am afraid that if I closed my eyes, you would forget again."

"Oh no," she pulled his head into her arms, "no Fitzwilliam, that can never happen now. Never. All that is behind us, nothing can ever separate us, for we are meant to be."

"Do you promise?" He raised his tormented blue eyes to her burning dark ones and the fire spread into his as well.

"I promise," she smiled a beautiful smile full of love, "and now you must promise me something as well."

"Of course," he told her sincerely, "anything."

"You have already promised to be a gentleman, so I shall not ask that again," she teased and Darcy realized that he had been anything but, indeed his face was dangerously close to her…ahem…there was no need to elaborate but it was anything but proper. He quickly moved away and was thankful for the semidarkness that hid his blush or maybe it did not. Elizabeth looked at him in amusement and went on, "you must promise to wake me up before the rest of the household, so that I can go back to my room."

"I would," he reassured her, "do not worry. Your reputation is next only to you in my eyes."

"Then you are taking quite a risk," she had laughter in her voice.

"Do not tease me Elizabeth," he huffed, "you know that I shall surely die if you went out of this room tonight."

"We shall never know," she shook her head at him, "for I am staying and extremely sleepy," she stifled a yawn and turned away, "good nigh Fitzwilliam," her voice sounded groggy.

"Good night my love," he smiled at her back and turned around as well, for even the sight of her back, under the covers was quite dangerous to a man in his position.

…**.**

Darcy woke up to a feeling of something soft pressed against him. He opened his eyes and the room seemed dimly lit from the light of early dawn coming through the light curtains that covered the windows. There was no light in the grate anymore for the fire had burned out sometime in the night.

He looked towards the soft bundle in his arms and marveled at his good luck again. That Elizabeth had forgiven him alone seemed like a miracle, but that she had agreed to stay with him throughout the night was beyond anything he had ever imagined, for indeed, he had never imagined that she would be in his bed and all they shall do would be talk and sleep, he had imagined quite another scenario altogether.

He looked towards the window and thought it best to wake her up now, before someone went to her room and found her missing. He raised himself slightly and brushed away her hair from her face as he dipped down his head and softly kissed her temple.

"Elizabeth," he called her tenderly as he planted another kiss on her cheek bone, his fingers moving in her hair, "wake up darling."

Darcy had only wanted to kiss her lightly till she woke up, but one kiss seemed to lead to another until he trailed her face down to her neck, a thousand sensations assaulting him. Elizabeth opened her eyes and looked at him as if in a haze and raised her hand to touch his face. Darcy softly brushed his lips against her finger tips and she came to, immediately.

"I thought I was dreaming," she said lazily as she tried to move her legs, but maybe she realized that they laid tangled with his for she stiffened suddenly.

"Me too," he murmured against her temple, her enticing scent making him lose all sense.

Elizabeth quickly sat up, maybe the impropriety of the situation hit her then. Darcy sat up also, as he took her appearance in. The quite low neckline of her night gown had slipped down one shoulder exposing her creamy skin to his scrutiny, her hair was in disarray but since they were not curly, they still looked quite fine, as did her skin that had lost its pallor of last night and now glowed beautifully, her eyes still looked somewhat drowsy making her look delightfully disheveled.

"May I kiss you now Elizabeth," he asked barely breathing as he saw her blush prettily, "just once?"

"Yes," she tried looking up but averted her eyes as soon as they encountered his, "you may."

She closed her eyes and her face advanced slightly towards his, but Darcy had other ideas where he was going to use his kiss. He bent his head and kissed her shoulder. Elizabeth gasped as her eyes flew open, she quickly pulled the neckline of her night gown up to cover her shoulder but as the neck slipped down it exposed quite another part of her anatomy that Darcy peeled his eyes off with great difficulty. He looked up and thought that she had never looked more beautiful with her eyes looking innocently down at him.

"One more?" He asked a bit mischievously now.

"Yes," she smiled shyly and he softly grazed the crook of her neck.

"One more," he did not ask this time as he caught her pulse between his lips, his arms going around her slender waist as his lips moved up till they reached her lips.

Her eyes were closed, her long dark lashes making her skin look like porcelain, her inviting lips calling out to be kissed. Darcy pulled her closer, he had been waiting for this moment for months now and it had eluded him every time he had though it to be within reach. His fingers softly brushed a strand of hair away from her face before traveling into her hair as she opened her eyes and looked at him and Darcy could resist no more.

His lips touched hers gently at first, almost tentatively, but the feel of her softness drove all thought out of his mind. He kissed her lips repeatedly till she was trembling in his arms, griping his shoulders tightly. Darcy pulled her closer and captured her rosy lips within his, tasting them passionately, hungrily.

"Mmh," Elizabeth moaned, fueling his desire. He kissed her more fervently now as his hands traced her soft contours.

"Oh how I love you Elizabeth," he murmured against her lips as she arched into him, "and how I want you."

They were both on their knees on the bed now, their bodies pressing into each other, kissing in abandon as their breaths and their tongues mingled and meshed. Their hearts beat against each other as Elizabeth's fingers clutched Darcy's hair and his hands roamed her back. After four agonizing months of separation, they had finally found each other and now it was very difficult to let go.

"Is it possible to die of desire?" He asked incoherently as he pulled her head back and started exploring her neck with hot moist kisses, "so soft," his lips kept moving down until they pressed firmly into her softness where her heart throbbed erratically. Elizabeth jerked away with a gasp at such an intimate contact but Darcy pulled her back into his arms as he crushed his lips to hers.

"Do not stop me Elizabeth," he said breathlessly between kisses, "just kiss me darling."

"Yes," she said breathlessly as she complied, "Fitzwilliam," she managed to choke out his name in between ardent kisses as their lips stayed united until they were both breathless and overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions. Darcy rested against the back of the bed, Elizabeth's head on his shoulder as the sound of his name said breathlessly in her voice reverberated in his ears, and then she kissed his neck softly. Darcy stiffened, her soft, small touch was enough to drive him towards the edge of his self-control and he had already gone too far in testing it, so he did not make any move to respond as she laid in his arms.

He tenderly rubbed her back till their breaths and heartbeats, both slowed down. A soft bliss enveloped them into its midst as they breathed together, allowing the perfection of the moment to sink in.

"How will I pass three weeks without you?" Darcy asked in a low voice after both of them had sufficiently come back to their senses.

"Three weeks?" She sat up and looked questioningly at him.

"Yes, three weeks," he said firmly, "for it cannot be more than that. We have endured a long enough separation to last us ten life times, I am not staying away from you any more." And then he tried to pull her back into his arms but she resisted.

"But why exactly three weeks?" She frowned at him and wrinkled her nose.

"Because the marriage license that I procured in August, expires in about three weeks," he said as he tapped her small upturned nose with his index finger, "and I am not about to waste time on getting another."

"But how is that going to happen?" She asked, somewhat perplexed, "we haven't even gone back to Hertfordshire yet, nor have you asked for Papa's consent."

"Will he say no?" He tensed up then, the thought of another hurdle making him almost angry, "tell me right now Elizabeth, so that we can go directly to Scotland. I have no patience for any more obstacles that might stand between us."

"Is that how you plan to ask for my hand?" Her eyes danced with mischief, "for Papa might say no to you if you adopt such a highhanded tone with him."

"Elizabeth," he looked exasperated and she giggled.

"Of course he would say yes," she smiled at him and then looked somewhat sad, "but I have yet to hear from him about the travel arrangements for my return."

"That shall not be a problem," he said waving his hand a little, "you should come with me and Georgie when we journey back to London in a few days."

"I thought you were leaving today," she teased again, "or at least that is what you told me in the woods."

"Do not remind me," his face darkened for a moment but then cleared up, "how can I go now with your travel plans still uncertain. After all you are also my responsibility." Elizabeth smiled fondly at him as they both raised their hands together to hold.

"Alright," she agreed, "but would it not be improper for us to travel like this, without any chaperone, for Georgiana cannot be counted as one."

"Izzie shall come with us," he said as it occurred to him that his Aunt would not miss his wedding for the world, "she also has to attend our wedding."

"When did you concoct this brilliant plan Darcy?" she batted her eyelashes at him, "I thought you were sleeping."

"Your future husband happens to be a clever man, Miss Bennet," he told her playfully and then watched her slip down the bed, "where are you going?" He asked in alarm.

She did not answer, instead she walked to the window and pulled the curtains apart. Darcy watched mesmerized as she got bathed in the soft light of dawn. Her loose cotton night gown became almost transparent in the light, exposing her delightful form to his eyes. He groaned inwardly and asked himself _'how will three weeks pass?'_

"Look," she turned towards him, unaware of his dilemma, "the sun is about to rise, I had better go to my room."

Darcy threw away the covers and moved towards her.

"I shall walk you," his eyes caressed her face and stilled at her lips that still looked somewhat swollen by their kissing.

"I am not going to Sleighton," she mocked, "just across the hall," and was about to start walking towards the door when Darcy pulled her back and turned them both towards the window.

"Stay awhile," he held her to his chest and felt her stiffen somewhat.

"I really should go now," her voice trembled. Darcy frowned.

"Why are you so shy of me now Elizabeth," he slowly turned her around in his arms. "you were not so in the past?" He looked on as she resolutely kept her eyes downcast, her lashes in stark contrast with her creamy skin.

"I…I do not know," she replied slowly, "I just feel shy and embarrassed when you…you," he felt her breathing become irregular, "when you…err…come…ahem…close."

"But why now," He kept looking at her uncomprehendingly, "shouldn't you be more comfortable with me now that everything has fallen into place?"

"I am comfortable with you," she quickly looked up and placed her hands on his chest, "why else would I stay in your room all night?" Her voice was firm and reassuring and Darcy felt calm again.

"So it is just the…err…**closeness** that makes you avert your eyes and go all crimson," he pulled her closer and the feel of her soft body against his started drawing him into a delightful haze once again.

"I do not avert my eyes or go all crimson," she pouted prettily and tried to push him away but Darcy was having none of it.

"Tell me the reason and I shall let you go," he slid his cheek against hers and watched her eyes flutter shut. They were both breathing deeply now.

"I just," she began a little hesitantly and then whispered softly, "I **feel **you, Fitzwilliam, more intensely, more deeply than ever before," and her beautiful dark eyes opened and fell on him. Darcy felt a physical pull at this contact but thought it better not to move, he just wanted to listen to her telling him what he meant to her, "and that intensity of emotion somehow makes me shy of you. I do not know how to explain it."

"So you do not like it anymore?" Darcy felt puzzled, after the initial bashfulness, she had responded to him with even more vigour than she had at Pemberley or Hertfordshire.

"How can I not like it and then react the way I just did?" She looked at him through hooded lashes, "maybe it is because I want you so much that I become so shy."

"Y-you want me?" Darcy gulped as his grip tightened. _'What sweet words, what sweet torture was this?' _He thought vaguely.

"I suppose," she looked away again, "I did not feel so overwhelmed before."

"Yes," Darcy said simply as he stared at her and remembered how she had trembled in his arms, how she had been hesitant in the beginning and how she had moaned in the end. He softly kissed her forehead and stepped away. Elizabeth looked gratefully at him, love shining through her eyes. "Do you even know what **wanting **means Elizabeth?" He asked mischievously as he bent slightly towards her, trying to make things lighter between them.

"Of course I do," being Elizabeth, she quickly rose to the challenge and frowned at him. _'Of course you do not,' _thought a highly amused Darcy.

"Would you please enlighten me," he asked barely concealing his smile as he tapped her nose, "I find myself at a loss?"

"I…I," she knit her eyebrows as she tried to think up a plausible answer and then Darcy saw her expression change from confusion to triumph, "Fitzwilliam Darcy," she placed her hands on her waist and looked sternly at him, "it is highly improper for young ladies to talk on subjects such as these with gentlemen who have not yet been successful in procuring consent from their father." Darcy laughed outright and after a few moments Elizabeth joined him as well.

"Oh you are good Elizabeth," he looked appreciatively at her, "you are really good and equally difficult to outwit."

"Then stop trying to," she raised an eyebrow at him and then suddenly something caught her notice outside the window, "oh look, the sun is coming up," she pointed.

"It is beautiful," he stepped behind her and his arms went around her waist as he placed his chin on her head, "I want us to be at Pemberley," he said in her ear, "in our room there," her head dropped to his shoulder and Darcy softly kissed her behind her ear, "watching the sunset together in a privacy that no one can disturb," he heard and felt her sigh and pulled her closer, "without any fear of impropriety," to hold her in his arms was the best feeling in the world.

"I have begun to think that you do not have any fear of impropriety even now, Mr. Darcy," she teased as her fingers drew circles on the back of his hands.

"You are right of course," he smiled against her hair.

"Giving up so easily, are you?" She turned towards him slightly and arched an eyebrow.

"A good husband always knows when to concede," he said playfully as he saw the rays from the early morning sun dance in her eyes.

"What else does a good husband know?" She turned back towards the window but Darcy caught her hand and led her towards the couch where they sat facing each other.

"I do not know what a good husband knows but I do know what he does not know," he shrugged and said pleasantly, "I have no inkling where you would like to go after the wedding. So tell me."

"Wherever you want," she replied with a smile, "I just want to be wherever you are."

"I have always imagined our wedding night to be at Pemberley," he told her as his fingers moved her hair out of her face, "ever since I saw you in my room there." Elizabeth blushed and her eyes dropped to their joined hands.

"I would like that as well," she agreed as he interlaced their fingers and pulled her towards him.

"What else would you like," their faces were so close that he could feel her warm breath on his lips, "would you like me to kiss you?" He asked breathlessly. Elizabeth slowly looked up and he saw a sudden determination in her eyes.

"Would you like **me** to kiss you?" She asked archly and Darcy felt raw need mounting up inside him.

"Like?" He whispered, "I would lo…" He did not get to finish his sentence as Elizabeth quickly got up and kissed him right on the lips.

It was the first time that she had ever done that, the sensation of her simple kiss was unmatched to any he had ever felt before. He gripped her arms and jerked her towards him, urging her wordlessly to repeat her actions. Elizabeth's hands went behind his head as she first kissed his eye lids close and then moved to his lips as her soft ones touched them over and over again till he captured them in his own making her murmur his name.

"If you kept on saying my name like this Elizabeth," he whispered against her lips as he lay almost on top of her on the couch, "I am afraid I would never be able to let you go out of this room."

She opened her eyes and Darcy fell in love with her all over again. She was the most beautifully enticing creature and she was in his arms, in his heart and in his life. She pushed him lightly and he sat up and helped her sit up also as he watched her adjust her neckline to its proper place.

"You had no such intentions to begin with," she mocked and turned towards him after both of them had sufficiently recovered. Darcy coloured lightly, she was right of course.

"I only wish us to be married soon," he huffed, "and be at Pemberley. Just the two of us."

"It would not be just the two of us there," she looked indulgently at him as she pushed his hair away from his forehead.

"We are not going to have children right away Elizabeth," he looked at her in amusement, "these things take time."

"Fitzwilliam," she turned crimson and cried in indignation, "I meant Georgiana."

"Of course you did," he persisted in teasing her but then suddenly became sad, "she shall come out next year and get married soon enough. She would not be with us for long."

"Maybe she will not get married as soon as you think," Elizabeth quickly moved towards him and grabbed his hand in hers, "we still have plenty of time with her."

"Indeed we do," he moved his thumb on her knuckles, "and we shall have children by the time she gets married, and such an occurrence is sure to keep us busy." Elizabeth nodded as her cheeks became flushed again.

"How many do you want?" He asked with interest as her eyes widened slightly.

"I have not thought about it," she stammered, "how many do you want?"

"I have lived such a lonely life Elizabeth," he brought her close and told her in a low tone, "that I would love for our family to be a large one."

"And I have lived such a bustling life," Elizabeth's chuckle brought him out of his sadness quickly, "that I would rather have a small and well behaved family," she turned towards him and her eyes were dancing with mischief, "also, child bearing is not an easy task, I say let us just have twins and be done with it," she chuckled again and Darcy had to grin as well.

"Let us first get married," he suggested playfully.

"And let me first go back to my room," she returned equal and stood up, Darcy in tow.

"Whose night gown is this?" He asked as he held her tiny waist between his hands while they walked towards the door in slow steps, "it is too loose on you."

"It is mine," she looked archly at him, "I prefer them loose, for they are easy to wear and…" Suddenly she stopped saying whatever she was going to say. _'And easy to remove,' _Darcy thought as he gulped yet again.

"Not everyone has a night attire that dictates the ton fashion," she turned towards him and smiled playfully. Darcy groaned.

"Did Mark tell you?" He asked in embarrassment.

"No," she laughed at his countenance, "a Miss Ashdown did, it was a rather hilarious story."

"That you would undoubtedly tease me about often?" He asked warily.

"Not often," she replied tilting her head coquettishly, "only every time I see you in your night suit."

"But that is going to be for the rest of our lives," he complained as he pulled her closer.

"But not for three weeks yet," she wagged her eyebrows and broke out of his embrace, "I really should go now."

"Yes," he agreed, "let me check if there is anyone in the hallway."

Darcy walked up to the door, opened it and peered outside, "there is no one," he told her and she quickly walked up to him.

"I…," he shifted his wait from one foot to the other a little uncomfortably as they stood in the doorway of his room, "we shall leave as soon as you are well enough to travel," Elizabeth nodded.

"I shall be fine in a couple of days," she told him, "and I really want to go home now."

"I hope," he said hesitantly, "I hope there would not be any more problems now."

"Of course not," she reassured him with a smile, "I am sure of it."

She slipped past him then and walked towards her room. Darcy stood transfixed and watched her go, an unease spread through him as strange doubts raised heads in his heart. And then she turned around with a smile on her lips, as she reached her door. Darcy saw her smile vanish and get replaced by a frown and the next moment they were both standing in the middle of the corridor, their arms wrapped around each other, oblivious to anyone finding them in their compromising position.

"I am not going anywhere, Fitzwilliam," all her shyness melted away as she traced his face with her fingers, "nobody loses their memory twice in a lifetime," she told him softly, "nothing and no one is going to come between us now. You have to let go of your apprehensions on my account. **I am yours and will be forever," **she told him earnestly, emphasizing every word.

"I know," he said in a tranquil tone and then he kissed every inch of her face before their lips met.

As they stood together in a lover's embrace, their eyes told a tale of pain that has to be endured sometimes before true love can be found. But that pain, though difficult to bear makes the love and the lovers stronger and their hearts more in harmony.

"I love you," Darcy and Elizabeth whispered together and then smiled a smile that was enough for both their tortured hearts, that removed all their doubts, that was reassurance itself that no matter how far or how long they had to stay apart, this one fact would never change that they loved each other and that never was a love more enduring, more time tested and more true.

…**.**

That smile was an omen of days to come. And in the days that came, many such smiles graced their lips as everything turned out exactly as the lovers planned. There were no more delays, no more hurdles, no more heartache, only the happiness that comes with fulfilled dreams and only the joy that boundless love brings with it.

Elizabeth and Darcy remained the happiest of couples among their acquaintance even though neither their tempers were as alike as Jane and Mr. Bingley's, nor their backgrounds as similar as Ilythia and Col. Fitzwilliam's and nor were they always compromising their own opinions for their life partner's. Instead they had found a medium where both of them voiced their opinions and one agreed to at least respect the other's view if not agree to it.

It would be a lie to say that they never fought. With such fiery tempers as theirs, arguments were inevitable. But to everybody's surprise, they did not argue half as much as Col. Fitzwilliam had wagered (with Mark) or Jane had feared. There was the occasional row that mostly ended by means of releasing all the pent up heat else where, well mostly in bed, for that remained Darcy's obsession for a long time after their marriage and with a wife as passionate and responsive as Elizabeth, there was nothing to stop him and so his ardour flowed long as did hers.

Elizabeth's presence at Pemberley turned it from a grand house to a home that gave the impression of a place that was lived in. She brought laughter, love and life with her, something that both Fitzwilliam and Georgiana Darcy were heartily grateful for, even though Georgiana did not stay long with them. Their children and the offspring of all their siblings, cousins and friends, occasionally joined by the grandparents from Torquay and Hertfordshire and sometimes even Matlock, made the beautiful estate bustle with mischief and amusement every summer.

Seasons changed as winters turned into springs and springs into summers, days into months and months into years, and many new memories were created during that time. But the couple always cherished the memories that they had lost and found, the most, for those were the times that had turned the simple feeling of love into the intricately beautiful emotion that they now felt for each other.

…**.The End….**

**A/N: **At last we have come to the end of 'Memories Lost and Found'. For four months, I have lived, breathed eaten and slept with this story. No matter what I did, the next dialogue, the next scene, the next chapter was on my mind.

Wonderful as the journey was, it would not have been even half as good if it wasn't for your response. I heartily thank anyone who ever read, followed, favourited and especially reviewed the story, because without encouragement, a writer can sometimes lose heart. Everyone who has been with me from the start must already know how much I appreciate their encouragement. I will like this to be known that my life has been infinitely more interesting because of your lovely reviews.

I would also like to thank everyone who pointed out the mistakes in my text. It has been extremely helpful and has of course improved the story immensely.

I am feeling quite tense right now and dying to know everybody's reaction to this ending. Do you like it or do you hate it…everyone **MUST **let me know. Reviewing this last chapter is compulsory for anyone who is reading it.

Thank you again and again.

**Naushin**

**P.S. **There was one thing about the reviews that made me laugh sometimes. No matter what happened it was always 'Poor Darcy'. Elizabeth got hit by a tree and it was 'poor Darcy', Elizabeth had terrible headaches and vertigos and it was 'poor Darcy', Elizabeth had awful flashbacks and consequently became extremely agitated but it was still 'poor Darcy' and last but not the least, Elizabeth got mercilessly and needlessly yelled at and IT WAS **STILL** 'POOR DARCY'? Seriously people…a little justice is required for our 'poor heroine'…LOL.


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